Merle's Women
by BustersJezebel
Summary: A series of one-shot hook-ups of Merle with female characters of The Walking Dead, commencing with an OFC pre-apocalypse. Rated M as this is PWP and it's explicit. This is Merle. I have no ownership of The Walking Dead TV/comics. I just play with them in kinky ways. Romance equals sexual situations for the most part.
1. Merle & OFC

_A/N - Special thanks to my MB, What Evil Lurks. I had PM'd her saying I was missing Merle and was thinking of doing a series of one-shot chapters of him and how I'd envision him hooking up with all the female characters of The Walking Dead. But that I wanted to start with an OFC pre-apocalypse. Her response was 'the more Merle the better'. And so I begin. I will update this until I've gone through the female cast of TWD. That means some one-shots will be AU-ish (same character, same setting, different storyline). I'm not looking at any slash in this series however, though if you know my writing you know I have no objection to this. I will also not necessarily post the hook-ups in any particular order. It's PWP, 1. Because Merle got killed off well before his time. And 2. He deserved a chance with each female character on the show dammit. Rated M for obvious reasons, but in case you haven't yet grasped it, these one-shots will contain explicit smut. Consider yourself warned. My Merle has few limits._

* * *

Merle stroked up and down the tattooed arm he was looking at slowly. It was a gorgeous tattoo, outlined and shaded with exquisite care. He'd never seen anything like it. It started on the back of her hand and meandered up her arm toward her shoulder where it went part of the way up her neck that was now bruised by his mouth. Then it slid over her shoulder and down her back to twine lazily and end at her other hip where it pointed toward her pussy. A rose by any other name he thought with a slight grin.

Looking out the window he gauged the time, dawn was coming, he could feel it in his bones. And his high was going, as was his drunk. The woman sleeping beside him moaned unintelligibly and moved away from his touch. Curling in on herself as if he was something to move away from. That she was doing it in her sleep didn't make it any easier to deal with. Story of his fucking life, people trying to fuck off on him.

Reining himself in Merle glanced at the table by the window, he couldn't see it but he knew his stash was there. Two steps, that was all, two steps and he'd be able to take a hit, sniff himself into a better mood, open the pretty little taquita's legs beside him and take his pleasure in her again.

Shaking his head he looked at her outline again. He thought of her tattoo. He'd licked and sucked at every bit of it with the light overhead illuminating every single sexy inch earlier in the evening. She'd tasted like sweat and make-up and oil that she'd put on her skin to make it gleam under the lights on stage.

He'd picked her up at the strip club. He'd been out but a week or so and was already a regular again. No girls left from when he'd been in there last though. Shame, there had been one, Ingrid. Big, blonde and busty and a mouth like a hoover. She'd been able to take all of him and then some.

Grimacing slightly, Merle palmed his cock. He watched dawn break as he continued to harden, thinking of fucking Ingrid's tits. They'd been spectacular. And real. This one beside him had real ones too. But she wasn't like Ingrid in any other way. Dark versus light. Merle's eyes rolled slightly in his head as he thought of them munching on each other.

Now that would be a sight, dark versus light, blonde versus brunette. Blue eyes versus brown. Big versus little. Not that his Carmellita beside him was little, but she wasn't, what was the word? She wasn't voluptuous like Ingrid had been either.

He missed the prison library. No fucking way he could go get a library card in town. He'd be booted out of the doors as soon as he set foot inside. Discrimination is what it was, but it was also something he was used to. He was white trash of the five-star variety after all.

Getting up Merle took his two steps to the table. Opening his stash of meth he looked at it. Why the hell not? But just as he bends his head that rose-covered arm winds around his waist.

"Do me before you take it, want to fuck you when you're not high." Her words are soft, each one punctuated by a kiss across the back of his shoulder blades. Twisting in her arms Merle looks down at her.

"Yeah, you want my cock inside your tight little pussy when I'm not hopped on something? Now why would that be sugar?" Merle questions her softly. His hands, his huge hands skim over her back, fingers mapping her tattoo that he'd already memorised.

Her smile as she smiles up at him is fey in the extreme. "Want to know the difference is all. Between high Merle and regular Merle."

Frowning Merle looks at her, she seemed familiar all of a sudden but he couldn't place her and her eyes are shuttered before he can call her on it. Then she simply pushes out of his loose hold and sinks to her knees. Her fingers caress him. He's still semi erect from fondling himself before.

And then he feels her breath on him. Those dark fey eyes gleam up at him as dawn steals into her messy bedroom. "You smell like me, I like that." And with those words that somehow make him uncomfortable enough to want to leave she opens her mouth and takes him in.

Sucking him lightly, her hands lift and stroke his balls and beyond. He remembers now, she wasn't squeamish this dark beauty, she was open in every way. Moaning lightly Merle spreads his legs giving her slender fingers room to work him over.

And work him she does. Repeatedly lifting, stroking, pinching, scratching. She did it all. And all the while her mouth was sucking and licking at him. Over and over. She was going to make him come and he wanted to come in her.

Pulling her up by her tangled hair he bruised her mouth some more with his own, tongue fucking her, ignoring their morning breath as he bit and sucked on her. She moaned this time, wound her legs around his waist and tried to sink down on his cock.

"Oh no sweetheart, I fuck when I'm ready and not before." She protested and clamped her legs around him. She had strong legs from her pole work, but he was still stronger. Reaching behind him with one hand Merle picked up his baggie of ground meth.

Allowing his brown-skinned beauty to support herself by holding onto him he took those two steps back to the bed and fell onto it, with her underneath him. He rolled so she was on top, she wanted his cock, she could do the work this time.

"Go on now, fuck me." He says to her as he pushes her up into a sitting position. He grins widely, showing as many teeth as he can and she frowns at him.

"Gilipollas." She muttered at him, making him smile.

"Maybe darlin' but you want my cock, you fuck it yourself." He answered. He wasn't sure what she'd called him but history told him it wasn't complimentary.

He watched her calculate whether or not to fuck him and come down on the pro side. He grinned to himself at the thought. She wasn't really. He wasn't paying her for her time at all, but she was expert if not professional.

Idly watching as she plucked at her own nipples her head falling back on her neck. Merle notices he's marked her up good and proper. It's as it should be. Then she reaches back for his cock where it's currently brushing insistently against her backside and raises herself up on those strong legs.

Pausing, she looks at him, silently for the longest time And again that feeling of familiarity rises. He knows her he suddenly realises. From somewhere, he knows her. And then she sinks down on him and he forgets that he knows her, forgets that he's thinking of getting high, forgets everything except the tight white heat of pleasure she was giving him.

She was tight and he'd be lying if he said he was small. But as tight as she was, she took him all in, something most women couldn't do. He watched as she sank down on him, his eyes half closed in pleasure.

"Fuck yeah." He mutters as she clenches down on him from the inside.

"Si querido." She answers him, again teasing the edges of his mind with the idea that he knows her from somewhere, somewhere before, a long time ago.

But it blurs for him again when she starts her own rhythm on his cock, from the inside again. He almost feels her like a pulse on his cock she's warm and wet and fucking perfect.

"Gonna come for Merle sweet thing?" He asks her and finds himself laughing as she rolls her eyes at him.

"Will if you stop referring to yourself in the third person." She snaps at him. And then she stops moving everything but her internal muscles.

"Oh fuck." Merle says as he feels her again. Nothing else, just her, on him, surrounding him, miring him in the pleasure that is her. This woman that he knows he knows from somewhere, somewhere before.

Closing his eyes he lets himself drift, focus purely on his cock and what she's doing to it. He feels his balls draw up and her faster movement indicating she's getting ready to come. Her fingers move back, cup his balls and squeeze.

"No coming until I do." He opens his eyes as she speaks. "I mean it." She says to him.

Merle grins. "Ain't no one who orders me when to come sugar." And just like that he rises to her, his steel cage arms wrapping around her waist and sliding up her back to grab her hair and pull on it harshly wringing a groan of pained pleasure from her.

"Hijo de puta!" She curses him, he knows what that means.

"Then don't fuckin' order me bitch." He snaps back as he opens his mouth and fills it with the flesh of her breast, his tongue rasps over her nipple before he closes his teeth on it. "You want rough? I can do rough."

And so saying he pulls her back down and rolls again until she's underneath him. Then his hands grab for her arms, just as she begins to claw at his shoulders. He watches her still as he holds her down, imprisoned on his cock, held by his hands.

"You want to come baby? Merle can make you come good, all you gotta' do is ask nicely now." He thrusts a little into her and has to force his eyes not to cross from her heat. He stills and does his best to ignore her internal muscles clenching down on him. Trying to force him, Merle Dixon into moving against his will.

It would be a cold day in hell before some pussy made him fuck against his will. Wasn't going to happen.

So he waited her out. They stayed like that awhile, him resting on his elbows looking down at her and her looking up at him. The sun has risen above her tree line and is shining inside her bedroom now, it illuminates her face and the familiarity is back. He can no longer ignore it.

"I know you from somewhere." And a veil comes across her face. He sees it literally sweep across her face.

"Fuck me Merle, por favor, por favor fuck me, need to come with you one more time." And she closes her eyes, leaning up to his face as she kisses his neck. And Merle is gone.

He fucks her hard and fast, reaching for his own orgasm, she'd kept him on the edge it wouldn't take long. Letting go of her hands he pushes up and away, arms straight as he looks down at her, messy and sweaty and smelling of him, like she'd said his cock smelled of her.

"Play with yourself, with your rose." He orders her bluntly. She pulls back, her eyes open and she smiles wickedly at him.

"As you wish." Her eyes glimmer at him now, in amusement that he is turned on by her tattoo. He can live with that. Because he's about to come and nothing beats that feeling. His eyes drop to her clit, he feels her knuckles brush against his own pubic bone, like she's teasing him there as well.

He watches her roses flex and writhe as her fingers move over her clit. She was getting herself off. Focussing on the roses Merle imagines them wrapped around him, forever there, a part of him, breathing with him, living with him as he feels his balls draw up and empty inside the beauty underneath him.

Her moan of pleasure and sudden spasms tell him she is coming as well. Supporting himself, he doesn't fall down onto her until she stops fingering herself. And then he collapses.

"Sweet cheeks that was one hell of a morning wake-up call." He says as he rolls to the side. He feels more than sees her laugh at his words. Her tattooed arm drops his baggie on his chest as she rises from the bed.

"No sleeping, shower if you want, but you're out of here when I am and I'm gone in an hour." He frowns at her abruptness.

"No post coital snuggle then?" He's sarcastic now, usually he's the one leaving, not being booted out on his ass. Literally.

"You want a ride back to your bike?" She arches a finely plucked brow at him, one hand resting on her hip, the other inside a dresser drawer.

With a shrug Merle rises again. He showers after she does, all the while watching her dry off, moisturize and dress. Then she blow dries her hair. He definitely knows her. But he can't place her and he's fucked if he'll ask.

When he's dressed he moves into her kitchen. She pushes a go-cup of coffee at him and a piece of toast. Then she's at the back door holding it open for him.

"Fuck, it's bright." Merle swears at the day that had been nothing but sexy as sin when it slid across her face as he fucked her a little while ago. He snorts some meth as she drives him back to the bar. He offers her some but she shakes her head.

"Don't touch that shit." She answers his unspoken offer verbally as well. There is no censure in her tone however. That tells him she's familiar with it if not a user.

When they get to the deserted parking lot of the bar Daryl's blue truck is there, he's in the process of manhandling Merle's bike into the bed. When they pull up he doesn't stop until he's finished strapping it down. Then he jumps down and moves to the driver's side window.

Merle watches as the woman he can't recognise rolls her window down. "Hey Daryl."

To Merle's surprise Daryl grins at her familiarly as he looked over at Merle and then back at the woman. "Hey Nits." He says, "Finally bagged him then?" Merle frowned.

Bagged him? Bagged _him_? What the fuck? He looked at the woman. Her name was Nits? What the fuck kind of name was that anyway?

Daryl is frowning at him now, he looks back at Nits. "He don't recognise you does he?" He stands upright and laughs out loud making Merle mad as a wet hen.

Before he can say anything though Daryl leans down again. "Juanita, fucktard." And he stands and walks back to his truck, getting in the driver's side he starts it up and leans his hand on the horn telling Merle to hurry the fuck up.

But Merle can't. He's too busy racing down memory lane. Juanita, affectionately named Nits for short was or had been their neighbour. She'd had a crush on him for as long as he could remember. And she was younger than Daryl. He looks down at what he can see of the rose tattoo.

_"Well now little darlin' don't you blush as lovely as a pretty pink rose, you lookin' for my baby brother now?"_ He'd questioned her years ago. Made light-hearted fun of her blush, always. Every time he'd seen her and she'd blushed, he'd likened it to a pink rose. And now she had a pink rose tattoo over half her fucking body. Exactly like she used to blush for him.

He remembered she spoke Spanish, her mother had made sure she learned both languages. Juanita was Mexican, or half Mex anyway. And until last night he'd never had one single sexual thought about her in his life. Well fuck, she'd turned that on its ass.

Daryl leaning on the horn again jerks him back to the present day. He looks at the girl, no the woman sitting patiently beside him. She looks back and jerks her head indicating for him to get out of the vehicle. Giving him the bums rush again.

It'd be the last time she did that though, Merle vowed. "Be seein' you darlin." Merle tips an imaginary hat at Juanita and grins as he steps out of her beat up truck. Then he's striding to the passenger side of Daryl's and getting in. But he ignores Daryl as he watches Juanita's truck in his side mirror until Daryl rounds a bend and it disappears from sight.

* * *

_A/N - Translations via Google Translate as follows:_

_ gilipollas = asshole_

_si querido = dear_

_hijo de puta = motherfucker_

_por favor = please_

_taquita's I actually made up myself, a version of taquito - a Mexican food and Carmelita is nickname variation of Carmen that I read about, it's not expanded upon but it's Juanita's stage name._


	2. Merle & Lori

_A/N - Apologies to my MB, I had discussed doing Merle with someone else in particular for chapter two, but this AU story of Merle and Lori came out of nowhere and Merle harassed me into putting it down for him._

* * *

Merle lazes against the wall outside the garage. He's got a booted foot hitched up, one thumb in his belt loop and the other wrapped around a longneck. He watches the SUV pull up and a leggy brunette step out. She bends, showing Merle a skinny-ass ass.

He snorts as he thinks of that. He's cruising today, not too high, not too low, like Goldilocks, his hit this morning was just right. Add in his longneck and he was feeling good. The woman slams the door and the SUV motors off.

He watches as the brunette takes out her phone and tucking her hair behind her ear makes a call. "I'm here Rick, where are you?" She sounds pissed off. Ain't none of his business though.

Keeping an eye on her nevertheless, he closes his ears as he drinks in the sunshine. Then her voice penetrates again, kind of like nails down a fucking chalkboard. Sounds more pissed off now. "You said you'd be here, how the hell am I supposed to know if they're fleecing me? You know mechanics don't like women Rick, you said you'd be here."

Merle snorts and in doing so catches her attention. She frowns at him in irritation and sticks her nose in the air before turning away. He looked at her skinny shoulders, vertebrae poking out of her blouse. And wasn't that something, her wearing a blouse, made him think of his mama.

Closing his eyes Merle takes another sip and drowns her out altogether.

That is until she speaks directly to him. "When will the van be ready?" He opens an eye and looks at her before closing it and turning away without answering.

"I said, when will the van be ready?" Merle sighs.

"Sugar, I look like a fuckin' mechanic to you?" He asks, irritated that she thinks he looks like a fucking mechanic.

"Well, this is a garage, there isn't anyone else around, so if you're not the mechanic why is the business open?" She is pissy, he can tell. And she's taking it out on him. Which he won't tolerate.

"Woman, get the fuck outta my face. I ain't the mechanic, if you'd bother to set a glass slipper in the fuckin' shop you'd find the mechanic where he should be. Fixin' a fuckin' car. Fuck off and be pissy at your ol' man, not me."

Merle pushes off the wall with his shoulders now. She's ruined his fucking buzz. He meanders into the shop. "Daryl, get the fuck out here and get rid of this fuckin' customer, she's ruinin' my mood."

Merle waits with the woman at his back like a damn monkey for Daryl to appear. When he does Merle walks off, out into the yard. He spies the van the woman was referring to. She was a…what the fuck did they call it? Oh yeah, a soccer mom.

"Load of fuckin' bullshit." He says quietly. He opens the van and sits on the step. Knows she's going to give him hell, say he's invading her privacy or some shit. He doesn't fucking care.

He finishes the beer and shoves it in the van with an evil grin. He doesn't think of the trouble it could cause the shop, he does it in the hopes the husband will find it and assume that the bony brunette is fucking around on him.

When she arrives he gets up with a mile wide smiles and apologies and walks away with a whistle.

He's forgotten her within the hour.

Several days later he's cruising again, literally this time as well, on his way to buy. He spies the familiar van on the side of the road, the hazard lights blinking. When he sees the female butt bent over the back of the van where the hatch is raised he grins and pulls over.

"Hey sugar, got some car trouble?" He says as he stands and swings off the bike.

"You!" The woman says as she pulls back and stares at him.

"Merle sugar, names Merle. Have we met before?" He asked even as he realised he had seen her before. "Oh yeah, the garage. But you got a flat now do you?" She nods and steps back as he steps forward.

"Easy darlin' you're too damn skinny for me anyway." He grabs the spare and raises a brow at her. She reluctantly motions to the front passenger side.

Merle sets about changing the tire, with the woman huffing and what not in the background. He can tell from the car she's got a kid or two. Groceries in the back by the look of it. She tries for cell service again.

"You expected somewhere sugar?" He questions idly as he unscrews the lug nuts on the tyre after removing the hubcap.

"Why? What business is it of yours?" She snaps at him.

"Ain't no never mind of mine, 'cept you got two flats you know, or one and a half anyway." He jerks at the rear passenger tyre and laughs quietly as he hears her curse.

"God dammit, thanks for fixing it on the weekend Rick. God dammit." She cursed and kicked the tyre in a temper.

"Easy now darlin' it'll get you where you need to go unless you're hightailin' it outta' town for good." He sees the flush on her face and wonders but lets it slide when he scrapes his knuckles on a lug nut. "Fuck!' He focuses on what he's doing and ignores his brain trying to bring skinny legs wrapped around his ears to the forefront.

No way soccer mom was going to spread for him. No fucking way. When he's finished he stands and takes out a bandana and wipes his hand. The woman steps forward, surprising the fuck out of Merle and takes his hand.

"You've got grease in it, don't rub it in. Hold on." Then she steps back to the van, grabs a case and takes out a first aid kit.

"True fuckin' soccer mom ain't you?" He says sarcastically.

She flinches as she looks up. "I love my son so yes I guess I am." She made Merle feel like he was two inches tall, exactly like his mama used to make him feel. And he fucking hated feeling like that. But this time he figured he deserved it.

"Yeah, guess so. Better safe than sorry and all that fuckin' shit ain't it?" She merely nods and cleans the gash.

"You want me to tape it or are you going to be all manly and let it be?" She asks him with the faintest grin, so faint he swears he's imagining it. But then it widens a little and he finds himself grinning back.

"You got a drink of water or somethin' sugar?" He asks as he pushes his bandana back into his vest pocket.

"Yeah. And it's Lori, my name that is." She qualifies for him before he can think to make a big deal out of it or anything.

"Merle Dixon at your service Miz Lori." He doffs an imaginary hat and she quirks a half-smile at him as she passes him a water bottle.

Merle finds himself thinking that skinny wasn't so bad, especially if it got him those legs wrapped around his face. That he'd like. He'd bet she tasted tart. Not acidic mind, but tart with just enough sweetness to make a man crave more.

"So, your old man, he don't manage things so good then, Lori?" He waited a beat until she looked at him before he said her name.

"Something like that. Used to be okay, but now with our son, I can't pick up the slack. Too busy looking out for everyone else, forgets he's got a family that needs him." She frowned and Merle knew why. She was talking to him and she didn't know why.

"It's easier to talk to a stranger." He answers the question she asked herself but not him. She flashed a surprised look at him and he grinned toothily at her. "Might be a redneck sugar, don't mean I'm stupid."

After a pause she snorted out a laugh. "Yeah, and I'm too skinny, I remember, Merle." She used his name now too.

"Oh well, I might've been a little hasty with that statement." He says with a grin. She looks at him and shakes her head.

"You're high Merle, don't think I don't see it."

"Maybe, you be wantin' anything sugar?" She shook her head but she didn't move away, in fact if Merle's eyes didn't deceive him, she moved forward, not by much, just a little. Enough to be noticed.

"Sure you ain't wantin' anything sugar?" He asked her again, quiet now. Not wanting to scare her off. Women were tricky creatures. Look at them the wrong way and they'd go all skittish like a newborn foal.

And Merle was suddenly in the mood for skinny coltish legs that went on forever. In the mood to just lick from the ankle all the way to the sweaty crease where the leg met the body, and then just kind of nuzzle there, breathing her in for a bit.

His cock stirred in his loose-fitting jeans as he thought about licking and sucking her there. Wondering if she'd let him leave a mark or if she was still intimate enough with her husband that he'd see something like that.

Picking up the tools and putting them back in the well under the floor in the back Merle rolled the flat tyre back as well and then shoved it inside the van and closed the hatch. "All done sugar, you'd best be on your way now." He says abruptly as he calls himself ten times a fucking fool for considering fucking around with a freaking soccer mum.

He walks back to his bike, his stride ground eating as always. And he kicks it over he shoves a pair of sunglasses on his face, gives Lori a mile wide smile and motors off again in search of another high. But as he jerks himself off in the shower that night, it's not the waitress sleeping in his bed that he thinks of. It's a skinny body with endless legs he was suddenly wanting to have wrapped around him along with a natural brown waterfall of hair curtaining them as they fucked each other into a sweating mess on the side of the road.

##########

Several weeks pass and Merle's thoughts of Lori dim, he's got a full life and women aren't hard to find. Yeah, she might still star in his jerking off fantasies, but hey a man was entitled to a fantasy wasn't he?

He's shut down the bar he works as a bouncer at one night and treats himself to a breakfast at his favourite diner. He sits alone and watches the sun rise as he takes his time eating. He watches a sheriff's car nose in beside his bike and then two men come inside. They order and sit in the next booth. Merle ignores them though he can hear them talking.

Once he's finished eating he pays his tab and steps away, he's carrying but not high at the moment which was a fucking lucky fluke. Kicking his bike to life he revs the engine and pulls out. He's on his way home, the sun rising above the trees and the air is already humid and hot.

The van stopped on the side of the road with the hazard lights on makes him smile. But it's a different colour to Lori's. He stops though and gets a surprise when she steps out of the driver's seat with her hand to her ear holding her phone.

"Thanks, I appreciate it." She hangs up the phone. "Hey Merle, long time no see."

She's skinner if that's even possible. "You okay sugar, don't look so well?" He ignores her greeting, goes straight for the meat of things so to speak.

"I'm good, been visiting my mother, she's taken Carl for a bit, I was headed home but I swerved to miss a dog and." She broke off and shrugged.

"You called for a tow?" He asked as he killed his bike.

"Yeah, got Daryl, he said he'd be at least an hour."

Merle nodded. "Yeah, sounds about right." He leans forward on his handlebars and watches Lori fidget. "You maybe changed your mind and want somethin' now sugar?"

He watched as the prettiest pink flush worked its way up her chest and over her face. "Oh darlin' that is a beautiful flush, makes me wonder if your beautiful titties will be the same colour as all that flushed skin."

Lori steps back and Merle almost sighs in relief. "Guess you ain't interested in getting' physical then." He mutters as he steps back himself. "Be seein' you." He kicks his bike back to life and is off before she can say anything else.

##########

A couple of weeks later Merle is treating himself to breakfast again. This time it's the van that pulls up. Lori gets out and stretches that lean body before she wanders inside. She raises her eyebrows when she sees him and he jerks his chin at her in greeting.

"Hey, can I join you?" She asks, her hands scrape over the top of the booth, her nails are bitten to the quick.

"Free country darlin'." Merle allows. He's not getting caught up in her again.

She nods and slides into the booth. He places his order and she orders a couple of scrambled eggs and some juice. Then she sits, still and silent, Merle can tell by the movement of her arms that she's twisting her fingers together under the table.

"What's botherin' you now sugar? Man troubles still?" He asks quietly. In his mind he's swearing like fuck at himself for getting involved in her life. She was like a fucking succubus. She'd suck the life right out of him if he let her.

"I," Lori stops as their food is delivered. She eats mechanically as does Merle and she eats the slice of bacon he put silently on her plate as well.

When they've finished Lori takes a breath and looks over at him. He watches her as he chews on a toothpick. Then he stands and she follows, moving out of the booth, stopping to pay her bill and then while Merle pays his, she slips out the door and drives off in the van.

About twenty minutes later Merle slows down and pulls up in front of her van. He shuts off his bike and stands, stretching himself. Lori is sitting on the floor in the back, the back passenger door pulled all the way back on its roller.

Reaching down into his panniers Merle grabs up a condom. He was really trying to remember to use the fucking things. He was sick of being on antibiotics because he couldn't keep his dick shrink-wrapped.

Plus he was sick of Daryl fucking laughing at him. "Jeans off now." He orders as Lori stands nervously.

"I've never done this before." She says without moving beyond wiping her damp palms on her thighs.

"You don't think I don't know that sugar?" Merle laughs. His hand whips out and tangles in that beautiful waterfall of oak brown hair. Her strawberry scent wafts to him and he opens his mouth over hers, takes her next words into his mouth and sinks into her on a pleasured moan.

He felt Lori's hands move around his waist. They hook into his vest and then let go, slide up and under it. Then her hands began to grasp and pull and suddenly her surprisingly rough hands were on his skin. Merle shuddered.

He felt his balls draw up as the tips of her fingers trailed over his back, she was a possessive toucher he realised. Moving his fingers to the buttons on her blouse Merle, undoes them, slow and careful, one by one. Wouldn't do to mark this one up.

Pushing his hips into Lori's Merle is surprised by how tall she really is. She's Daryl's height at least. He comes back to the present when Lori's fingers dig under his belt, scratch a little at the top of his butt and then slide around to grip it before she unbuckles him and opens his jeans.

Merle's cock pushes out, thick and hard, Lori's fingers glide over it as if she's fingering silk and wasn't that just the fucking sexiest thing? Merle didn't think he'd ever been touched so delicately before.

Her thumb cruised over his tip from where it poked out of its foreskin and then she broke away as she brought it up to her mouth and watching Merle all the while she slowly sucked it into her mouth. Her jaw moved and Merle could tell she was licking his pre-come from it.

He very nearly came as she closed her eyes and savored his taste. Then she opened them, her thumb came out of her mouth and her hands went to her own painted-on jeans. Merle's hands moved to her breasts, he stroked her nipples lightly and she shuddered.

"Oh yeah, figured you'd be extra sensitive here sugar, bein' as they're so small and all." He said laconically. He smiled as Lori shivered under his touch. "Bet you'd come just from me playin' with you here wouldn't you? Too bad we don't got the time." Merle pushed her blouse off her shoulders but left her bra on.

Dropping his head, he took nearly her entire breast into his mouth even as his tongue rasped against Lori's turgidly swollen nipple through her bra. A moan came from so deep in her body Merle felt the vibration against his lips where they rested on Lori's body.

He felt her fingers moving her jeans and panties down her legs and his own hands joined hers. Then he pulled off, looking at Lori quickly before he turned her around. She was flushed and sweaty in arousal and Merle was feeling pleased with the thought that it was him that had made her that way.

Lori's hands braced on either side of the door to the backseat and Merle pulled his condom out of his back pocket before he let his pants fall. He tore it open with his teeth even as his other hand slid between Lori's buttocks and he pushed two fingers straight into her heat.

And she was hot, and wet beyond fucking belief. "Fuck, you are so ready for me ain't you darlin'?" He questioned breathlessly as she pushed back on him, trying to control him. He laughed as he used his left hand to roll on the condom as his right continued to tease inside Lori's body.

"Nope, ain't gonna' get the better of ol' Merle by usin' your pussy, I don't work that way sugar." He laughed again as Lori huffed and stilled. "That's better now, hold good and still for me sugar." Merle's hands moved to her naked hips and he began to push his cock into her narrow pussy.

She was fucking tight, nearly painfully so, but worth every torturous inch he pushed inside her and then some. "Fuck, your old man is a lucky SOB, gettin' to fuck this whenever the fuck he wants." He mutters and feels Lori laugh.

"Well, if he didn't forget he had a family half the time." He hears bitterness in her tone. She isn't happy, but that is none of his never mind. They've been passing each other for a while now, the heat simmering between them, the steam building up until this morning when they'd both been in the same place at the same time and Lori had been pissed or irritated or hurt enough at her husband that she'd thought fuck it all.

Merle knew he was being used, fuck he was happy being used by this soccer mom, she might be skinny where he liked a little meat on his bones, but fuck. She had the tightest pussy he'd been inside in maybe forever. He could deal.

Bottoming out in Lori's clinging pussy Merle groaned and relaxed for a few seconds. Then his fingers curled almost into claws as he grasped Lori's hips and began to fuck her, hard, fast, cheap and nasty. Fuck her like the whore she was treating him.

But fuck, she was going to make him come, sooner rather than later. Merle wanted nothing more than to be inside her without a condom. He wondered if her fucking 'Rick' knew how lucky he was to have a pussy like this to come home to. He doubted it from what she'd said.

"Fuck, if you were mine, no fucking way I'd neglect you like you say your husband does Lori, no fucking way." Merle punctuated his last three words with an extra sharp snap of his hips. He could already see bruises forming on the back of Lori's buttocks where his bony hips were marking her pale skin.

And that reddening and slowly bruising skin was enough to make his balls draw up. "Gonna come on my cock woman without a touch to your clit huh?" He questioned breathlessly.

Lori hadn't moved her hands from the doorframe of the van. She was braced there, fucking back on Merle's cock every time he fucked into her.

She needed this fucking as much as he wanted it.

"Yes." Her voice is whispered, almost pained as she pushes back harder, making Merle's hips hit her buttocks even more sharply and his fingers scratch her as he digs them into her hips to find a better purchase.

"Good girl. That's what I like to hear." Merle suddenly lets go of a hip and grabs Lori's hair, he pulls back violently making her arch her back and cry out as he brings her to his mouth, his tongue sliding sloppy and wet over her neck and up to her mouth where she surprises him again by pushing her own tongue out to meet him.

And he came, hard and fast, churning into her pussy, his cock filling the condom with his seed that he wished was filling the woman instead.

"Fuck." He muttered as he felt Lori's own orgasm slam through her. Her pussy clenching and pulsing on his cock made him spurt out a few more dribbles of sperm before he stopped moving inside her and wrapped his arms around her slim waits instead. Let her support him for a minute with her arms on the doorframe.

When her shoulders moved infinitesimally Merle took a deep breath and released it before he straightened up a little. He put a hand on the base of the condom and pulled out of Lori, slow and steady, not wanting to leave her warmth.

She surprises him though by turning around and batting his hands away. She took off his condom, tied it off and threw it into the underbrush. She grinned at Merle as she pulled his jeans back up from where they'd bunched around his thighs and tucked him in before doing everything up and buckling his belt again.

Grinning at her Merle shook his head and then returned the favour. He cupped her pussy as he finished doing up her jeans. "Wish I'd gotten the opportunity to make you come with my mouth." He says wistfully.

A smile flashed across Lori's face. "Me too, that mouth of yours has to be good for something other than talking shit."

Narrowing his eyes Merle stepped back as Lori shrugged into her blouse and buttoned herself away. "You sayin' I talk too much sugar?" He questioned dangerously.

"Nope, you don't talk too much Merle, you just talk shit." Lori says with a wider grin. She flips her hair behind her shoulders as she reaches a hand out and pats his cheek. "Thank you." Her smile is gone now as she looks at him seriously.

And that look and those two words take his temper in full. Shaking his head Merle steps back. He doffs an imaginary hat again and winks at her. "Anytime sugar, anytime." Then he strides back to his bike, kicks it to life and rides on home.

In the shower a little while later he jerks himself off thinking of Lori thanking him.

He wonders if he'll ever get the opportunity to eat her out. He really wished he'd been able to do that with her today.

##########

Six months later he's in the back of a patrol car listening in while the deputy in the driver's seat makes a call. He pulls down his sun visor as he does so and fingers a photograph tacked on there. Merle's eyes widen imperceptibly as he sees it.

"Lori, it's me, I'm going to be late tonight." Merle watches the deputy rub the bridge of his nose and breathe as if he's trying to keep words inside, deep down inside.

"I know, it can't be helped, I've got to process someone." He rests his head back on the headrest of the driver's seat and lets Lori speak. "I'm sorry, I am." He says no more and Merle shakes his head.

Fucking dipshit, didn't even know how to keep his woman in line. A woman like Lori needed to be told shit as much as she needed to be reassured. Jesus fucking Christ, he'd never had a steady woman in his life and he fucking knew that.

"I love…" The deputy breaks off and pulls the phone away from his ear and stares at it. Lori had obviously hung up.

Merle couldn't help smiling. He, Merle Dixon had fucked this deputy's wife on the side of the road months ago, and she'd fucking loved it. Life was sweet.


	3. Merle & Amy

_A/N – Merle and Amy, at the quarry. I've taken a few liberties with Amy's character so I would consider it slightly AU-ish. But not a lot. She was only in the show for a short time and I never really saw any true exploration of her personality so you could say I've taken advantage of that fact. And I should note if it's not obvious, as this series is about Merle himself it will be all from his point of view._

* * *

Merle snorts his meth and leans up arching his back on a moaning sigh. Fuck that was good shit. He was trying to pace himself but so far he hadn't been too successful. It wasn't in his nature to be some pussified less is more fucker anyway. He'll find some other shit when he runs out, he's sure of it.

He rolls his neck, feeling and hearing it crack as he does so, then he flexes his hands before shadow boxing several times. Fuck, he could take on the world with one hand tied behind his back and fucking rule.

He laughs silently at himself, knowing he's high but appreciating his wit anyway. No one else ever fucking appreciated his wit. Not fucking Daryl, man didn't know the meaning of the phrase sense of humour, let alone the word laugh.

And not anyone else at the quarry either. Stuck up old fart of a man, always in everyone else's business, observing, fuck that shit, perving on his two blonde companions more like, it took one dirty fucker to recognise another after all.

And the cop, fucking bouncing around on the balls of his feet, like he was a fucking MMA fighter or some shit. Merle laughed to himself, his fingers twitched as he plucked at this pants, dug his fingers into his thigh muscles, forced himself not to make a sound.

Had to be quiet out here, didn't want other's poking around, getting hold of his stash. Stupid fuckers still thought the old world rules applied. He knew different, law and order and that shit? It was fucking gone.

Beginning to meander around the outskirts of the camp, Merle half-heartedly checked the snares as he'd volunteered to do in the first place. Really the only time he had himself to himself, his tent didn't count, smelled way too fucking much like dirty man.

Say what you will, but Merle Dixon bathed daily, kept himself clean and squared away. Unlike his brother. The way Daryl walked around covered in dirt and blood and shit curdled Merle's stomach. And that was fucking saying something.

Clean was clean, washing washed away sin and evidence of it. He's brought up short when he smells the smoke. Sweet smoke. Someone nearby was smoking dope.

Stopping and sniffing Merle grinned wondering who the fuck it was. His mind ran through the possibilities as he stalked the smell, followed the soft breeze back. He could hear rustling, he stopped as he heard a soft inhale then a sighing exhale. Female, he'd bet his own stash that sound belonged to a pussy.

Merle puts a hand over his mouth as he laughs silently to himself. Whoever it was, he was going to enjoy confronting them, that was for sure and certain. Stiffening his spine he stepped forward and around the tree.

Looking down at the female splayed there carelessly he shook his head. Fucking city cunt. Figured she was safe because the old man said so, 'they don't come this far up' indeed. And if they did then there were the snares.

"The fuck you doin' Goldilocks?" He questions sharply fighting a grin as the younger blonde, fuck what was her name sprang up. Merle could see she'd had most of the joint by the look of her eyes.

"Nothing!" She exclaimed as she dropped the joint and snuffed it out. Merle shook his head, what a fucking waste.

"Yeah right, c'mon let's get you back to your big sister, see what she thinks." He grabs her arm and hauls her up. She rises bonelessly and thus slides straight up against him like a greased pig. "Oh yeah darlin' you want a piece of Merle? We can do that." He smirks as she rears back when he nudges his cock against her stomach.

She was young, not jailbait, but young, too young for him really, but beggars couldn't be choosers could they? And it wasn't like her sister would look at him anyway. And she wasn't the one Merle was thinking of when he jerked off nowadays that was for sure.

That place was specially reserved for the full-bodied woman who never spoke to him unless it was to sneer. And he was fucked in the head for thinking of her when he never stood a chance, but a fantasy was a fantasy he figured.

"No, don't tell her." Her words are slurred. What the fuck is her name?

"I'll tell her what the fuck I please, stupid cunt. Out here like you ain't gonna get bit and fuckin' die, then you'd leave us to deal with your fuckin' sister. You fuckin kids ain't got the sense God gave a fuckin' goose." He shakes the girl and she flails around a bit as she stares at him.

"Good fuckin' shit was it?" Merle can't help asking.

The smile she gifts him with tells him everything he needs to know. "Yeah, it's good." She answers in the present tense.

"Where's the rest then?" He shakes her some more, watches her blonde hair fly every which way. What the fuck was her name?

He looks down when he feels her hand on his stomach, the back of her knuckles brushing against it as she pulls the baggie out of her pocket. Fucking bitch has another six joints. Merle grabs it and steps back.

"Go on now, get the fuck back to camp." He turns away keeping the dope.

But being high for this one though means losing brain cells. "That's my stash, give it back." Her voice is shrill, why could he remember that and not her fucking name?

"Yeah," Merle turned back to her. "You want I should take it back to your big sister and the cop and the cop's wife? Tell them you were out here so concerned with shit and getting mushrooms and fuck knows what so you just thought you'd take a toke? That it little girl?" His sarcasm though, bounces off her. Being high has made it just deflect like she's made of titanium or something.

"It's mine not yours you redneck piece of trash, give it back now. You fucker." She tacks on that last bit as she moistens her lips and Merle suddenly flashes on her being down on her knees, getting her pretty white jeans all dirty as she sucks his cock and he pulls the shit out of that hair of hers.

"Suck my cock then little girl and it's all yours, minus a joint that is." He stands there smirking at her, fully expecting her to back off, but her puzzled eyes just stare at him. Shaking his head he snorts out an "I thought so," And walks off. Her calls for her stash to be given back go unanswered.

Merle smokes a joint that night. It was good fucking stuff. He watches the girl flit around camp with her sister like a fucking butterfly and when he jerks himself off down at the river, she replaces his usual woman. That blonde hair was something, he curled his big hands around his cock as he thought of yanking the shit out of it as he fucked her mouth raw.

A few days later and she is jonesing, it takes one to know one. So he manages to check the snares again, takes the rest of the joints and his own stash. He knows she'll follow like a good little girl. The way she was jittering told Merle if no one else that she was a very habitual user.

And he was going to take advantage of that. He grabs up the cigarette papers as well as a thought comes to him and he leaves quietly unlike he usually does. As soon as he's clear he takes out a joint and splits it, then he mixes some of his meth in with it and sprinkles it onto another cigarette paper, licking it he rolls it up.

Wrinkling his nose he shook his head. The things he did for pussy. It takes longer than he thought. But sure enough she turns up, sidling along, eyes darting every which way making him grin to himself. He'd not taken a hit yet, he wanted to wait, she wasn't gonna be high, plus she'd be easier for him to ensnare if he wasn't high either.

"Whatcha doin' Goldilocks? Looking for mushrooms? Magic ones?" He chuckles as he steps out in front of her, leans against the tree. He's made sure her baggie is sticking half out of his jeans pocket. Sure enough her eyes spot it. He watches them flick over his crotch as well and a flush begins to crawl up her chest.

It's not at all an attractive look with her fair, unblemished skin. It turns a dull mottled red, like she was getting hives as well, there were these white patches standing out among the red. Fuck, he'd never seen anything like it.

"Well, ain't that pretty," He mentally rolled his eyes at his lie, "flushed skin for me Goldilocks? Or are you flushin' because you think 'ol Merle will give you back a joint or better yet your whole stash?" He laughed now, let a little mean show through, he wasn't looking to manipulate her after all, just force her hand a little.

"It's mine, you stole it." She moistened her lips with a quick flick of her pink tongue and Merle felt his cock stir. Oh yeah, he was going to enjoy putting it to this one. "I want it back." She stopped and swallowed, Merle tracked her throats movement like he'd track a wild boar, not moving his eyes for a second. "Now." The last word is whispered and it makes him smile more, full on mean now.

"Yeah Goldilocks? What you gonna' do if I don't give it back? Go tell your big city lawyer sister? Or maybe the old perv up in your face all the time? Or better yet, the fuckin' cop?" Merle laughs in her face as he plucks out the baggie. Then watching her like a hawk he shoves it down inside his jeans, right down next to his warm and half-hard cock. "You want it? You take it from me, c'mon." He gestures her forward.

She hesitates for the longest time, just watches him, her eyes unblinking. Merle stares her down, waits for her to make up her mind, he had a back-up plan after all. She breaks the spell when she blinks and then her hands move hesitantly to his belt buckle and she undoes it, then she pops the button on his jeans, her knuckles graze his pubic hair as she drags down the zipper.

Then she looks up at him again. Vulnerably. Merle closes off his heart, she was offering what he hadn't even asked for yet, and yes he'd been going to. Slicking her tongue over her lips she looks down as his hard cock pushes straight out at her. "Oh." Her whisper is shocked.

"What's the matter Goldilocks? Never seen a man go without his tighty whities before?" He questioned sarcastically.

"No, I mean yes. You're…big." She finally admits and that very unattractive flush is back, crawling over her skin again.

"How the fuck old are you?" Merle asks out of the blue.

Her lashes flutter closes, lying across her flushed cheeks in half-moon crescents before she opens her eyes again and looks up at him. "Nineteen."

Fuck, she was younger than he'd thought, still legal by a few years though. This was Georgia after all. "You a virgin Goldilocks? Still got your cherry then?" He asks snidely as his hands cruise up her arms to clasp her by the scruff of her neck.

"No, I'm not a virgin." Her words are whispered as she reaches for him, her fingers don't meet when she grasps his cock he's that thick.

And he can smell her arousal suddenly. On the air, getting heavier by the second. And the grin that he bestows on her, what the fuck was her name, is feral. "Oh, you like the look of my cock do you Goldilocks? Want to ride it after you suck it?" He watches lazily as a small shudder ripples through her body, makes her hair move softly over the back of his hands.

"I, don't think I can, you're…" She trails off and the flush darkens never having left after it had reappeared.

"Oh don't worry Goldilocks, I'll fit just fine." Merle laughed. And then he stops playing.

His hands grip her neck and he hauls her up tight against him, the fingers of one hand gripping her neck firmly, but not too tight. He wasn't stupid, the flush she kept sprouting meant she'd mark and bruise at the drop of a hat, he'd have to be careful, not something he liked to be.

The other hand tangled in her hair and here he let himself go, pulling on it hard as he bared her neck. Thankful he'd shaved this morning instead of in the afternoon he opened his mouth over her neck and licked her. Long slow strokes of his tongue, from her shoulder up to her ear.

Then he traced the shell of her ear with his tongue, light and soft and he grinned as he nipped the lobe, giving into his base urges just a little. Her shudder told him everything he needed to know. She wasn't sturdy like his usual fantasy was, this one was fragile, breakable. But he thought she'd be sweet in spite of that.

He jerks a little when her other hand slides around his waist, but she just holds him, or maybe holds herself upright. Her other hand is sandwiched between them, fingers holding him, not moving or anything though.

Moving his lips to hers, Merle looks at her for a second. He still couldn't remember her fucking name. Goldilocks would do anyway. "Open that pretty cupid's bow for me now Goldilocks, let me in." He hovered there, mouth over hers for a few seconds. Breathing her in as she looked at him.

Her eyes were dazed, pupils blown to hell which told him just as much as her scent in the air that she was wanting to be fucked. "Open for me darlin', yeah that's it." Merle exults as she finally opens her mouth and pulls away from his fingers in her hair as she leans up to him.

His mouth takes hers, hard and possessive, his lips crush hers as his tongue moves into her mouth. Her breath is sour, the bad hygiene surprising him considering how put together she is otherwise.

Ignoring it he slides his tongue around her mouth, winces as he feels the fur on her teeth and pulls back. Fuck that was disgusting shit, no way he could kiss her again. He slid down her neck again, remembering at the last minute not to suck on her skin. Withholding a shudder he pulled back and then moved his hands to her shoulders, pushed her back.

"Get undressed now darlin'." Merle watched as she stepped back and began to obey him, then his fingers reached back and he pulled out a condom, tearing the wrapper he put it to his cock and rolled it down. No way was he fucking her bare, not with that mouth. If she was that unclean with an internal orifice, who the fuck knew what her pussy or ass was like?

He did have some standards after all.

When she's naked he watches her for a few minutes. She's a pretty thing, but way too delicate for his taste. And too young. But a pussy was a pussy. Shaking his head Merle suddenly wished he was high, just a little. That'd make her easier to deal with.

Tilting his head to the side he spat her taste from his mouth and then stepped forward and pushed at her until she was on her knees. Then he lay down, still fully dressed. She got with the program and moved until she was straddling him. Merle moved a hand and pushed his fingers into her.

Fuck, she was wet, soaking wet. "You got a daddy kink Goldilocks?" He asked sarcastically. It was the only reason he could think of that she'd be so fucking aroused from the little foreplay they'd done. And he'd been smelling her way before then.

"No." She says, a little breathless as Merle's fingers hook up and find her g-spot without an ounce of trouble. Feeling her wetness ooze down his fingers and onto his stomach Merle puts aside his distaste and starts to look forward to burying himself in this pretty piece of fluff.

"Yeah, you're awful wet, sure you ain't got a daddy kink?" He presses her, he knows it's not him, they just aren't each other's types.

Her flush comes back and he can see now that it covers most of her body, except for her legs and her arms. "You're lying to me girl, what's got you so hot for a fuck?" He asks as he stops moving his fingers inside her.

"Don't stop!" She practically screeched at him. Raising an eyebrow Merle withdrew his fingers altogether, rested them on her thigh, they've covered in her thick juices, glistening in the sunlight that dappled through the trees.

"Tell me then girl." He says as he gives in and digs his fingers into her thigh, scratches her deliberately, marks her. She flinches and tries to move away but his other hand comes up and keeps her steady. Girl had no muscles at all, just his fingers on her thighs and she was fucking trapped. No way was she going to last a day once they left the quarry and they would eventually leave. The cop was already talking about Fort Benning. Didn't matter, he and Daryl would be on their way before then anyway.

A whimper escapes her but he ignores it as he watches tears water in her eyes. A raised brow tells her that neither attempt will work on him. "Glenn." She whispered the name so low Merle thought for a second he didn't hear it.

"Yeah, you like yellow skin do you Goldilocks?" He asked sarcastically. "Guess I should have figured it." He knew that probably wasn't true. The chink was the only male close to her age and though the cop would be a better choice everyone in the fucking camp knew he was hung up on the skinny brunette with the kid.

And fuck, he might not like the kid but even he could see he had a skinny, gawky attractiveness. And he was deceptive. That more than anything Merle appreciated. Deceptive meant people would underestimate him, to their own detriment. It was something he loved projecting. Because he loved getting one up on someone.

"Goldilocks' likes the chink, gonna fuck me and think of him Goldilocks? I bet you are." He moves his fingers back to her pussy and pushes them inside her again. Three this time, his long middle finger slides over her g-spot repeatedly, then as she begins to moan and squirm on them, his thumb brushes her engorged clit and she comes like a rocket.

She's a gusher. Merle curses as he feels her ejaculation wet his jeans. "Fuckin' cunt, these were fresh today." He shoves her off him but it's too late. He glances over in time to see her trying unsuccessfully to wipe a very satisfied smile off her face.

Narrowing his eyes he stares at her silently. He watches as she realises he's not moving, not trying to wipe her come off himself, just staring at her. He sees a fine trembling begin in her bones and the animal in him stretches and begins to stir.

With a grin he sits up. He watches as her fingers flex in the leaves and dirt around them, her legs do the same and a grin splits his face as he sees her feet flex as she prepares to flee.

He's on her before she can move, pinning her down, the fingers that had just been inside her push into her mouth as she opens it to yell. "Think you can get one up on me cunt?" He questions her snidely. "Ain't gonna happen." He finishes as he feels her teeth bite down on him.

Hoping fervently she doesn't break the skin and cause some sort of infection with her unwashed mouth he pulls back and manages to twist her around until she's on her stomach. Then his other hand reaches for her panties and he pulls out his fingers and shoves them in her mouth, holding them in place with his hand.

Shoving her legs apart he pulls her back and then grabs her flailing arms, pins them in the small of her back with his left hand and then his right moves from her mouth back to her pussy. She's still wet and getting wetter. "Fuckin' slut." He mutters as he checks the condom is still in place before he takes his cock in hand and pushes inside her in one fell swoop.

"Think of your fuckin' yellow chink while 'ol Merle fucks you Goldilocks, I'll fuck you so good while you think of him and how his cock will fuck you one day if you can get him. Because something tells me he likes women, not girls, and darlin' you might be legal, but you're still a fuckin' child."

Merle begins to thrust, his knees spreading her thigh's wider until he feels her thigh muscles protesting. Only then, when she's wincing in pain does he stop spreading her. He watches her ass wink at him and he purses his lips as he stops moving his cock in her pussy.

Hawking up a globule of spit Merle lets it drop from his mouth down onto her ass, he watches as her hole flexes and fucking opens, sucking it inside. "Fuck me." He mutters. Only the most experienced ass fucking whores could do that shit. "Goldilocks you are just full of fuckin' surprises."

Holding the condom he pulls out of her pussy, her muscles clawing and clenching in protest even if she makes no other movement. Then he presses the head of his cock to her hole. "Knock, knock Goldilocks, let the big bad wolf in." He says with a laugh at his deliberate mangling of fairy tale characters and stories.

He watches with just his cock pressed against her hole as she flexes and then fuck if her hole doesn't open for him "Oh now, that is pretty, someone's a fan of being butt fucked aren't they?" He asks in a low intimate tone as he begins to push inside her. Her own juices on the condom making him slide in like a fucking greased pig.

"Something tells me you're a puzzle wrapped in an enigma and all that fuckin' shit aren't you Goldilocks?" He questioned as he wrapped his fingers around both of her slender wrists and pulled back on them, wrenching her shoulders, making her cry out around her makeshift gag.

Interesting that she hadn't worked it out of her mouth yet, or maybe not Merle thought as he felt her ass muscles clench down on him. Girl was experienced in the butt department, who else knew what the fuck that meant. And why couldn't he remember her fucking name?

Shaking it off he pulls out and fucks back into her. Her hole says open when he pulls out again, all the way this time. Jesus. Merle fought off a shudder, glad of his condom. His family, particularly his brother had made enough fun of him over the years that it was just about second nature to glove up these days.

He ignored his little lapse just after he'd gotten out of prison most recently, no man was perfect after all.

Her ass clenches down on him and Merle feels his balls draw up. She knew how to get a cock off that was for sure. She'd blow the fucking chink's mind if she ever got a chance at him. Merle laughed as he thought of it.

Shaking his head Merle pushed his musings to the side and settled down to get himself off in Goldilocks' ass. What the fuck was her name?

"Yeah Goldilocks, gonna fuck me good? Make me come, get your stash back?" He laughed to himself. "Such a pretty flush you get on you, all red and blotchy, shows up this birthmark of yours right good now doesn't it?" He questioned as he slapped a palm over her ass cheek. Letting her know he'd seen it, letting her know he knew about it. "Bet your sister would like to know how I know about it wouldn't she?" He said to make his point.

A sob tears from her and he shakes his head. Fuck, she was such a typical blonde. Young and dumb and full of come. He laughs out loud now as he realises that was literally the truth considering she was an ejaculator.

"Yeah Goldilocks, fuck me now, make 'ol Merle come in your pretty ass. Bet you ain't had a cock like mine inside it before have you? 'Specially from what you said before."

Her moaning around the gag she still hadn't tried to push out of her mouth told him all he needed to know. "Oh you like this don't you Goldilocks? 'Ol Merle sure can pick 'em. Fuckin' kinky little bitch aren't you?" Merle reached into his pocket and pulled out a small brown bottle.

His other hand still kept hers pinned behind her back. He released them and watched unsurprised as they fell to the ground, after a few seconds she flexed her shoulders, her hair spreading around her body, hanging mostly over either side of her neck and laying all over the ground.

"How the fuck can you have such a fucking dirty mouth and cunt and keep your hair so clean?" He couldn't help asking her. But there was no answer, she left the gag in her mouth and as he watched her shoulders flexed and her hands dug into the ground and then she shoved herself back on his cock, her ass pushing against his hip bones.

The grunt behind her gag was nothing but pleasure. Shaking his head Merle let her take over, fuck herself on his cock as he unscrewed the bottle in his hand, then splaying a large palm on her lower back he began to meet her thrust for thrust.

Holding the bottle to his nose he inhaled deeply and felt pleasure explode from the inside out. He could barely focus enough to screw the cap back on the bottle before he dropped it and grasped the hips twitching in front of him.

Then he began to fuck her, growling as he did so, his cock hardening even more as his mind expanded, he could see each individual vein on each fucking leaf he looked at in the trees overhead. The sun sparkling through the trees like crystal.

His orgasm exploded from his cock as he shook and shuddered over Goldilocks' back, he felt himself spurt into his condom and her ass clench down on him as she came again as well. He cursed, or at least he thought he cursed when he felt her wetness soak his jeans at the thighs and knees this time.

"Fuck it all." He slurred as everything flowed around them in a morass of colours and slowing sounds. His heart sped up while time slowed down and he watched fuzzily as his fingers clawed her hips where he grasped her, he fancied they turned into claws as he dug them into her willing flesh.

Her skin red and splotched. Her hair shiny and clean when he knew it was nothing but an illusion, a perfect outside covering a far from perfect inside while he was kind of the opposite, an imperfect outside covering a softer, more vulnerable inside. Aching for attention.

Shaking his head Merle winced as time returned to normal and a headache bloomed at the back of his skull and travelled quickly to behind his eyes. He closed them briefly as he held onto the base of the condom and withdrew from Goldilocks' ass.

He pulled a face at the gunk on it and the smell that wafted out. Fuck he was so glad he'd worn a condom. He would never thank Daryl but he was glad his little brother had actually brought some along, like he'd known Merle would need them when he busted him out of prison.

Merle yanked it off and tossed it away without tying it off, no way was he touching it more than necessary. Standing up he winces as he does up his jeans. He's going to have to wash them straight away and put on his third and last pair, he hopes Daryl doesn't notice, but knowing him he will, though it's doubtful he'll actually say anything.

He buckles his jeans and steps back. Reaching down he gather's Goldilocks' clothes and tosses them at her, she's managed to roll over now and has taken her panties out of her mouth and is sitting up to pull them on.

Merle stands and pulls the baggie out, he takes out the special joint he'd made for her and lights it without taking a hit. Then he passes it to her. He watches as she inhales expertly and he realises that she's not in any way a novice when it comes to using. She'd actually give him a run for his money and that was saying something.

"What'd you lace it with? Coke or meth?" She questions him quietly. And that tells him, even if he hadn't realised it already that she knew her drugs.

"Meth Goldilocks. Enjoy." He tosses the baggie at her with the remaining four joints and turns on his heel to walk off.

"Do the rest for me Dixon?" Her voice floats back to him.

"Fuck no." He answers without looking back as he strides back to his tent and some clean clothes.

##########

A few evenings later he's just coming back from bathing when he comes across the chink. He huffs for a few seconds. Tells himself to mind his own fucking business even as he stops and turns to approach him.

"Hey Chink." He says as he stops the kid from passing him.

A sigh answers him before he speaks. "What Merle? And I'm Korean you know."

"I know that, you've said it often enough kid." Merle snaps at him. This wasn't fucking easy and the kid wasn't making it any easier.

"What do you want? Something from town?" The kid asks him in a tired tone. Merle looks at him, he knows the group is running him ragged with his daily trips to town.

"If I want something from town Chink, I'll fuckin' get it myself, just wanted to say that if you get the opportunity here, make sure you shrink-wrap your fuckin' yellow dick, that's all." Merle turns and begins his walk back to the camp leaving the kid staring after him in amazement.

It's later that evening when he's lying I his tent with Daryl sleeping next to him that he hears the older sister call out to the younger one. Amy, she calls her. Amy.


	4. Merle & Beth

_A/N – I asked my husband to give me a female name of a Walking Dead character for my next Merle hook-up. He gave me Beth, so I give you Merle and Beth._

* * *

Merle prowled his cell, cracked his neck when he rotated it from side to side. He bounced on the balls of his feet for a few moments and then paced some more. This shit never got any easier.

He glanced at the bed and smiled at the angel eyes staring back at him. "Don't worry darlin' it won't be long." The wide grey eyes stare unblinkingly even as a pained moan reaches their ears.

He watches as tears form in the eyes and slide down the pale cheeks. "Shh, don't worry sweetheart, it's gonna be fine, was fine before, it'll be fine again. Don't worry now." He moves to the bed and gathers the frail body in his arms.

A body he'd kill for, a body he had killed for. A body he'd die for. He'd never known love until this angel in his arms had come into his life a few years ago.

Suddenly a cry sweeps through the cell block and he stiffens. "It's time darlin', we gotta go." He stands and cradles his angel to him. Then he scoops up the other bundle and strides down two cells.

The sight that greets him never fails to humble him. His woman, naked, bleeding and sweating as she births their third child. She's no angel this one, she's flesh and blood and bone and sinew. Strength and muscle beyond compare.

That she would not only gift him with a child in this life they have now, but that she'd gift him with three was something he'd never dreamed of in any life. Standing with their other children cradled to him, Merle watched as their third child screamed. "Do we got a boy or a girl Herschel?" They've already got one of both, so the sex doesn't matter at all.

"A girl, I've got another granddaughter." Herschel has tears in his eyes, Merle won't admit to it but he's a little misty himself.

"Well buckaroo, we're definitely outnumbered now." He says to his sleepy son. He holds both children to him as he watches his newborn daughter be cleaned up and set at her mother's breast.

Beth rolls her eyes at him as his eyes light up. "Dirty old man." She says with a laughing wince as their daughter starts nursing.

"What you love about me darlin'." Merle answers her with a grin. He leans down and carefully drops a kiss on her upturned face, her doe eyes blink at him tiredly. "I'll get these two back to bed and be back yeah?" He asks as he stands up again, children balanced perfectly in his arms.

"Yes Daddy." Herschel laughs as Maggie snorts and Merle pretends to growl at her. Shaking his head at his woman's never-ending sass he leaves her to it for the time being.

Merle settles his children down and then returns to Beth. He shoehorns himself carefully in beside her and holds her to him as she holds their newest daughter.

"Decided on a name yet?" He asks quietly as he strokes her downy hair. She has a full head of it at present.

"No, you thought of anything?" Beth snuggles and Merle lets her get comfortable before he tightens his hold a little.

"Kinda', you know how I call Daryl Darylena sometimes?" Merle asks in a whisper. Beth nods. "Well, I like Lena, what about you?"

He waits while Beth thinks it over, he hears her murmur the name several times to herself. "I like it, Lena what though? I know we don't do surnames, but we gave the other's middle names."

Merle thinks about a middle name, "Well, I like bible names too, old ones. Magdalene maybe? Or do you think that's bad for her?"

He feels Beth's still sweaty hair catch in his shirt as she shakes her head. "No, Lena Magdalene, I like it. Doesn't matter what other's think, she's our daughter."

Merle snorts, "She sure is."

* * *

A few months later Merle snarls at Rick as he tries to service one of the two remaining vehicles they have still working. Rick laughs at him and Merle snarls more. Shaking his head Rick leaves him alone to stew in his own venom.

A light footfall sometime later alerts him to company. "Rick, I done fuckin' told you, I'm doin' my fuckin' best, but if you keep botherin' me I'm gonna cut the fuckin' fuel lines on this piece of shit and be fuckin' done with it."

The footfalls stop and a light cough greets him. Rolling the dolly out Merle glares up, but it's not Rick's face he sees. "Fuck, sorry darlin'," He greets Beth. She just grins at him.

"It's okay, sounds like you're a little like a bear with a sore head today." Merle just grumbles. He stands and moves into the van, sitting down and taking up the bottle of water he'd brought out with him. He's sweaty and grease-stained and wants nothing more than a cold shower and to fuck his woman.

She surprises him when her arms slide around his waist and she presses soft open-mouthed kisses across his back, at the bottom of his shoulder blades where she can reach. Merle feels her breasts, full of milk pillow against his back, just above his waist band.

"Darlin'," He moans in protest and moves to catch her hands as they begin to slide across his trousers, palming his cock as they do so.

Beth surprises him by pushing him further into the van and climbing in after him. She's on him in a rush of warm limbs and dangling hair as she bats away his own hands as they try to stop her.

"I'm fine, we're fine. I need you inside me as much as you need inside." Merle looks up at her in the shadows of the van.

"You got the call clear?" He questioned her.

"I did, you gonna make use of the little free time I've got now…darlin'?" She questioned him with a fey smile, her eyes nearly glowing like a creature of the night as she smiled down at him.

"Well…darlin', you want to fuck me, then you go right on ahead." Merle can't help himself, he loves to tease and get his woman riled up. She falls for it every time.

He's conveniently forgotten that after the first couple of times though, Beth usually manages to shock the ever-loving shit out of him.

And this time is no exception. Merle watches, saliva pooling in his mouth as his woman kneels up and begins to strip. When she is naked she begins to strip him as well.

Prosthetic, boots clothes. The air in the van is steaming, scented with their joint arousal now, the windows fully fogged over.

Though he'll deny it forever Merle mewls when Beth moves around and straddles him as she maneuvers herself back so her pussy is over his face.

Leaning up, Merle brackets her hips even as he moans into her as she envelops his cock in her wet mouth.

Merle is being taken, his woman has him in her grip, literally and she's taking him how she wants in no uncertain terms.

Sucking him down hard and fast. It's nasty and feral and so surprisingly Beth. She was as base as a woman could be and still be a woman Merle thought sometimes.

He moaned as he licked at her even as he began to thrust his hips up into her mouth. Merle felt his eyes roll as Beth took him all the way down. He felt her fingers cruising over his sac and his balls draw up as her ragged fingernails scratched him.

His hips begin to move despite her attempts to keep him still.

He can't be stilled when she is like this with him. Sometimes in the deepest part of him he thinks she deliberately riles him to release his animal side, so she can be taken.

Not forced.

He'd never do that. But he can and does take her, more often that he'd prefer to be honest. But then she does that to him. "Fuck." He groans quietly as Beth releases him from her mouth. He licks into her knowing he doesn't have much time.

His tongue flicks against her clit and he feels her wetness coat his face. Merle's nose is buried in her ass and he inhales deeply, trying to imprint Beth's musky womanly scent inside him so every time he breathes in the future, he'll smell her.

It never works, but he never stops trying.

"Take me in woman, hurry up now." He orders Beth as she kneels up and shuffles forward. He watches her softer though still lean figure move down his body. Three children had wrought changes. She was still a skinny ass, but she had some curves now instead of just angles.

Her breasts were fuller though when she stopped breastfeeding they'd reduce in size greatly. Merle was just grateful they didn't sag. Say what you want but small breasted women had it over large tits in his eyes. No sagging and more often than not, their nipples were sensitive enough to cause them to orgasm without a touch on their pussy.

Not being able to help himself at the thought of fucking his Beth soon, Merle landed a slap across her ass. She jumped and he saw her asshole wink at him making him chuckle.

"Only you would think that was funny Merle Dixon." Beth grouses at him as she finally gets herself situated. Merle can see her skin gleaming with sweat now, just as his is. His arms come up to bracket her hips and he helps her settle on him.

"Yes, yes." Beth draws out the second yes.

"Better than your chink can do darlin'?" Merle questioned darkly as he fucked up into her hard and fast a couple of times before letting her set the pace.

He loved being ridden and was more than happy to let Beth set the pace when she did. He was fully aware that most times she preferred to be under him, having him surround her.

"Oh hush now, that was just a dream and you know it. I wish I'd never told you now." Merle grinned as he heard Beth mutter at him.

"But darlin' you did tell me and you know I like different. I'm thinkin' I should ask your Glenn to maybe take part with us one day. He can take your back door and I'll take your front." He feels Beth's pussy clench down on him and grins harder. "Or vice versa. Whatever you want."

"What I want Merle is for you to hurry up and take me. Or so help me you won't get anything from me for another week at least." Beth threatened him.

And Merle heeled. When Beth threatened no sex, she meant no sex. It wasn't something she did normally. Only once had she done it in all their years together. She just wasn't the type of woman to withhold sex to get her own way.

It was a measure of how needy she herself was that she was doing it now. Merle realised and accepted that, and so he did as she asked. How could he not?

Reaching out with his left hand, Merle yanks on Beth's sloppy braid to pull her back. He grins again as Beth moans and comes willingly, almost pushing herself back. She lies down on top of Merle, her back to his front.

"Ride me now woman, c'mon." He says to her as he fucks his hips up into her warmth again. Beth moans and squeezes him in response. "That's it girl, take me in, take me all in."

Merle's right arm bands around Beth's hips, holding her on top him as he clenches his stomach muscles and sits up taking Beth with him. Beth moans again as he shifts inside her and holds him tighter.

"Yes, that's it." Merle mutters as he lets her braid go and moves his left hand around to her breasts. He kneads them, plucking her already distended nipples harshly enough that he feels liquid ooze out of them.

"Oh baby, you came to me full?" He questioned breathlessly. "Oh fuck." Merle's left hand moves to his mouth and he slurps up the milk he's caused Beth to spill, his tongue swiping over his hand and fingers like a wet, wriggling snake.

"Fuck girl, you're gonna kill me one day." He feels more than hears Beth laugh at him and he rolls his eyes again. Yes, he was exaggerating, but still.

His woman, this petite thing that for some fucking reason he still didn't understand he'd fallen in love with, knew him inside and out. And he was okay with that.

Merle bit into the back of Beth's neck as his right arm rubbed over her clit. She moaned loudly now, her inner muscles clenching down on Merle ferociously.

"Yeah, c'mon girl, make me come now. Been without you too long." Sucking at the back of Beth's neck Merle snaps his hips forward and rams inside Beth as hard as he can.

Beth moans and her hips rotate on Merle's cock making Merle's eyes cross in pleasure. He feels his balls draw up and his left hand moves back to Beth's breasts, pulling and pinching her nipples.

Feeling Beth's own hands replace his right arm at her clit Merle looks over her shoulder, watches her slender fingers play her own body like a finely turned banjo.

And that sight, the sight of Beth's fingers delving into her own body to help herself get off is too much for Merle. It gets him off every time. Just like now.

Balls drawing up, Merle feels his cock spurt inside his woman as his eyes close, his arms banding Beth tightly to him.

"Yes baby, so good." He murmurs as he finally stops coming. He can feel liquid dripping on his forearm as he comes down from his orgasm.

"Hmm, you'd best clean me up now." Beth says softly.

Merle helps her move off his softening cock. He can't help sliding his stump through her pussy, gathering up her juices and his come on it and licking himself clean.

But that isn't what she'd meant by cleaning her up he knew. Laying Beth back a little, Merle makes sure she is comfortable.

Looking up at her he grins and Beth shakes her head wryly. "Go on now Dixon." She says as she rolls her eyes.

Huffing a little Merle is still smiling as he takes her nipple between his lips and begins to suck.

Flicking at Beth's nipple as he does so, he slowly drains her of milk, swallowing it as he suckles from her.

Finishing with one breast, Merle moves to her other breast, this time he accompanies his suckling with a hand between Beth's legs. His thumb riding her clit as his fingers push slowly inside her.

Sliding over her walls, fucking in and out as he slowly pushes her to an orgasm.

Feeling Beth's body begin to grow taut with the need to come again Merle begins to suck strongly now, then looking up he sees Beth's eyes closed, her head tilted back.

And grinning wickedly around her nipple, Merle bites down on it as his fingers ram inside her pussy, his thumb circling her clit the whole time. "Oh God."

Still grinning around Beth's nipple, Merle pulls off long enough to answer. "Oh no darlin', just Merle." He looks up long enough to see Beth poke her tongue out at him. "Oh, teasing are we? I'll take you up on that offer after dinner tonight."

Beth went to answer him, but Merle sucked and bit on her nipple again and it pushed her over the edge into another orgasm.

Merle keeps touching her as she comes and it's only when she winces a little that he stops moving inside her. Pulling his head back he kisses and licks at the spilled milk on her torso as he slowly withdraws his fingers and licks them clean.

When he sits back a little he realises how hot it is in the van. And how much the van smells like sex. The windows are well and truly fogged over now too.

"Shit, ain't no way people aren't gonna know we got off in here." He grumbles as he starts to get dressed again.

"Let them. They'll be envious is all." Merle looks at Beth and grins.

"True enough darlin', true enough."


	5. Merle & Andrea

_A/N - I would say this is mildly AU-ish. Set season three on the day Andrea visits the prison. And don't forget that Andrea was one of those that left Merle to die on that rooftop in Atlanta._

* * *

"The fuck you doin' here Blondie?" Merle growled the words as he looked at the woman standing in front of him. He was looking at their working vehicles trying to figure out which ones had the most longevity.

Hoping against hope that he'd be able to leave this shithole with Daryl. The rest of the group was optional.

Except he had a feeling the woman in front of him was going to fuck that up more than officer friendly. As if this pissant group stood a chance against the crazy that was The Governor. He was worse than Merle had figured Walsh to be and from what he'd heard, that was saying something.

But, if he got to leave, he'd love to take her with him, because he'd love to take her period. He wouldn't even mind taking the bastards leavings. She'd still be sweet he reckoned.

"We need to talk." She said to him. Trying as always to make herself fucking indispensable. Merle snorted at his thought. She wasn't no such thing.

"Yeah? You know I'd rather fuck your wet hole now don't you?" He ignored Daryl's curse. "Fuck off Darylena, me and Blondie here got to talk." He threw over his shoulder without even looking at Daryl.

"It's okay Daryl, we'll be fine." Andrea soothed Daryl and he left which both irritated and surprised the fuck out of Merle. He frowned as he stared after Daryl for several seconds.

Then, without looking at Andrea he went back to work on the vehicles. "I need your help."

That stopped him in his tracks. "To do what?" He turned and looked at Andrea, in her eyes and nowhere else as he asked the question.

He watched as Andrea frowned, hesitated and looked away. He could tell she was running through what to say to him in her head. "Spit it out Blondie, to quote my fuckin' brother I ain't got all day."

Merle's eyebrows rose when Andrea spat out a rusty sounding chuckle. "Yeah, Daryl used to say that a lot, I remember."

"Yeah, after you left me for fuckin' dead, then took off from the quarry you had my brother for months. I know." Bitterness coated his words and he turned away just as Andrea turned back to look at him.

Out of the corner of his eye Merle saw her roll her shoulders before standing up straighter and squaring them, which made her tits stand out even more.

Ignoring her and the jerk in his cock, Merle moved to another vehicle.

The touch then it came, froze him in his tracks.

It was nothing like the woman. It was soft, tentative, light and surprisingly needy. Shaking his head again at his fancy where this woman was concerned, Merle ignored it along with the light tremor that he felt through his shirt.

Woman was nervous about something. Before his mind could puzzle on it however, Andrea knocked his feet out from under him with two words.

"I'm sorry." The tremor became a shudder and Merle let the hood bang shut on the vehicle as he leaned his balled fist and prosthetic on it, head lowered.

Gritting his teeth he tried to keep his animal at bay. When her two words had sent him right back to that fucking rooftop in Atlanta, the heat and humidity, the skin-crawling dread in the pit of his stomach as he'd listened to the greedy moans of the dead.

His own sweat and blood and fuck it yes, even his own tears. It all flooded back into his mind and suddenly he didn't feel Andrea's neatly trimmed nails scratch lightly at his shoulder-blade but the grasping stench of a still-moving, rotting corpse.

Rounding on Andrea, Merle's left hand pushed straight on her chest. He watched, seeing but not _seeing_ Andrea fall back and he followed her until he had her backed up against the cold cement wall of the prison.

Prosthetic unhitched and blade tilting her chin back as his left hand splayed on her chest.

Her breasts.

And it was the feel of those pillow-soft pieces of flesh that brought him back to the present day.

Andrea, it was Andrea, Blondie. Lawyer, self-righteous left-wing equal-opportunity professional bullshit artist. Andrea.

Shaking his head Merle stepped back, literally into the present. He let go of her with his left hand and used it to push his blade back onto his prosthetic.

"No, whatever it is, no. Ain't goin' back." He said to her as he walked off, back to his own cell.

He's taken off his clothes and is scrubbing himself down as best he can when he sees movement out of the corner of his eye.

Her eyes fly up to meet his and Merle sees the horror, the fucking pity in them. Rolling his own, he ignores her as he finishes. Turning away from her, he gives her a fine view of his ass as he leans over to grab his pants again.

A tanned and still somehow soft hand beats his gnarled one to them. Lifts his trousers and moves them away.

Cocking an eyebrow at Andrea, Merle watches her move into the cell and pull the curtain across.

"What will it take for you to help?" She questioned him as she sat down on his bunk.

"Bargaining with your pussy Blondie?" Merle asked her sarcastically.

"Carol told me earlier to have sex with Phillip and then murder him in his sleep. She thinks I can do that, why is it such a stretch for you to think I'd fuck you to get your help?" Merle can tell she's being sarcastic.

Sick, he was sick because that turned him on. But, she was the sick fuck's leavings. Letting a grin loose Merle stepped forward, putting his body in her personal space, crowding her in.

Knees nudging hers, he spreads Andrea's legs and slides in between them. His hardening cock is level with her chin. His grin widens as he sees her eyes flick down to it and stay there. When she unconsciously licks her lips she very nearly swipes Merle's cock in the process.

"Oh Blondie, you don't know what you're offerin'." He very nearly snarled at her as she looked up at him through her lashes. "Oh, you do know what you're offerin'?" Merle questioned her and then answered himself in the next breath.

"Course you do." He put his hands on his hips and tilted his still hardening cock at Andrea's face. "Well, fuckin' have at it then." He wondered how far she'd go. He had a hankering for something specific but didn't know if it was something she was into.

Brought back to the present by the touch of Andrea's lips on his cock Merle closed his eyes to everything but the feel of his cock enveloped in the wet heat of a woman's mouth.

Not just any woman, but a fucking highbrow _educated_ woman. If he could think beyond the pleasure he was sure he'd laugh at the notion of having his cock sucked by a college educated and then some stacked blonde with attitude. Impractical attitude.

Thrusting into Andrea's mouth Merle's left hand grabs her hair, pulls on it making her gasp. Laughing at her he ignores her wince of pain and pushes his cock inside her, deeper making her feel it.

Punishing her he knew. For leaving him on the rooftop, for thinking he was stupid enough to fall for her wiles, she'd fuck him and get his help getting out of the mess she'd fucked her way into.

What the fuck ever. He could play.

Pulling her off his cock suddenly his right arm reached for her and wound around her waist, yanking her up against his chest. Leaning down to kiss her though Merle is jerked out of his arousal when Andrea jerks her head to the side so his mouth lands on her cheek.

"Sorry huh?" He ghosts a laugh over her face, lets her feel his breath on her skin even as his mind rails. Fucking cunt. Fuck but not kiss. She'd fucking kissed that crazy fuck though. He'd seen them.

But he still wasn't good enough to swap spit with. Come yes. Spit no. And people thought he was sick and retarded?

Swearing silently at himself, knowing he was flat-out lying to himself Merle steps back. "No, I'm sorry." Andrea's words drop like boulders on his shoulders.

That was the thing. She was sorry. She was also an egotistical bitch. "Let me ask you somethin' Blondie, you think Daryl is smart?" Merle lets her go while he waits for her answer.

Watches Andrea frown at him. Then she answers. "Yes, I do think he's smart, very smart."

"Then why do you think I'm so fuckin' stupid? We are brother's you know." Merle laughs humourlessly as he watches the flush crawl up Andrea's neck and face. "Oh now, that's sure a pretty sight darlin' your pretty titties all flushed as well?" He asked, deliberately slipping back into the persona she thinks him to be.

It was so easy, almost too easy. And better this way, too much risk to be himself. With anyone. Only the old man had so far seemed to see him for who he truly was. Even Daryl didn't see him, saw what he wanted, what Merle wanted him to see. It was better this way.

Stepping forward again, mask firmly in place, Merle's left hand pushed Andrea down on the bunk and he followed her, left hand pulling at her belt as he did so. "Okay Blondie, got yourself a deal, a fuck for help." The lie tastes like acid in his mouth, but it was only what she deserved.

Letting himself go, Merle watched as Andrea toed off her boots and then pushed her cargos and lace panties, honest to fucking God lace panties down her legs, kind of skinny legs now that he looked. But hell, she made up for it with her tits.

And that was what he wanted. Jerking his chin at her top, Merle spoke. "Everything, I want at 'em."

He looked at Andrea as she snorted. "Most men do."

Raising both eyebrows this time Merle questioned her. "Most men what?"

"Most men want to touch my breasts." Andrea explained. She sounded a little put out, like that was the only thing men saw in her.

Shaking his head at her stupidity Merle answered her. "You ain't gettin' my mouth Blondie, you don't want it above the neck, you don't get it below."

Grinning at Andrea's almost hurt look which was really so fucking typical he climbed on the bunk, straddled her and his left hand grabbed her right, placed it on the side of her breast. "Hold it there." He ordered her.

Then, he took her left hand and pushed it against her other breast. "Push 'em together Blondie, gonna fuck 'em till I come."

Andrea's eyes widen at his words. Merle's body dwarfing hers as he got himself settled. Making a truly gross sound Merle hawked a globule of spit into his left hand and ran it over his cock, mixing it with his pre-come that had began to leak.

Watching Andrea all the while, he then fit his cock into the small crevice between her breasts and letting his balls rest on her sternum he fucked his hips forward slowly.

"Fuck, wish I had some lube." He muttered. He was going to need to keep himself lubed with spit or the friction would fucking take skin off.

"Yeah, that's it, push those babies into my cock. Harder!" Merle snapped at Andrea, punctuating his order with a slap on her thigh.

Having left his prosthetic on, he used it on the wall of the cell, braced himself so he could fuck Andrea's fine tits with abandon. Just the way he'd wanted to from the first moment he'd seen them bouncing toward him at the quarry so long ago.

Hearing Andrea's breathing hitch Merle opened his eyes and looked down at her, she was all flushed skin and messy hair and dilated pupils. "This turn you on Blondie?" He asked abruptly. Andrea's flush deepened which told him the answer was yes.

"Well, quite the little slut aren't we? Bet you used to drive all the men at your fuckin' office crazy didn't you? Offer them a little view maybe, flash some of what I'm fuckin', get what you want and step back into your fuckin' ivory tower. Yeah, I bet that's just what you did."

"No, I didn't…" Merle cuts her protest off.

"Don't fuckin' care, that life is fuckin' gone anyway." He closed his eyes to her, then opened them and spat on himself again as his cock drew back.

A mirthless laugh leaves him as he realises Andrea might not have wanted to swap spit, but she was sure getting a chest full of his anyway.

Suddenly he flinches in shock as the head of his cock is taken back into Andrea's mouth. When he pulls back her warmth leaves and when he pushes she takes him in again.

Opening his eyes and looking down at her he continues to fuck her tits and now her mouth. "You're a fuckin' cockslut aren't you?" He questioned her as his left hand moves to her hair again and pulls her neck up awkwardly so she can take more of him when he moves forward.

"Have at me then, make me come Blondie." He orders her again and closes his eyes to her, the better to focus on his own pleasure.

Fuck but that felt good. It had been too long since he'd had the pleasure of a woman's mouth. The couple of hook-up's he had in Woodbury hadn't even come close, they'd alleviated an itch, nothing more, nothing less.

Shuddering, Merle felt his balls tingle and draw up, Blondie was going to make him come and come hard.

"Yeah, that's it Blondie, suck me down, you'd better fuckin' swallow me when I come or all bets are off." He ordered Andrea again. He'd be surprised if she did swallow. Wasn't something most women did in his own personal experience unless he paid them to.

Most of them seemed to think redneck equaled not worth swallowing. But they expected he'd go down on them without any issue though. Shaking his head Merle emptied his mind as he felt his orgasm roll through him.

Balls emptying into Andrea's mouth, he watched as his come dripped out of her mouth. He'd been right, she didn't swallow. Fucking bitch.

Sitting on her chest Merle grinned as he constricted her breathing. "Fuckin' serve you right if I did smother you with my ass." He said on a laugh as he kneeled up and then put his foot down on the floor and stood.

Moving to his trousers he grabbed them up and with a deft maneuver he stepped into them and zipped and buttoned them up. Once his belt had been buckled, he turned to Andrea, still sprawled on his bunk, naked as the day she was born.

"You gonna take a nap Blondie?" He asked her as he picked up her clothes and tossed them in her general direction.

"You fuck." Andrea spits the words at him as she sits up and begins to get dressed.

Laughing again Merle shook his head. "Don't fuck with a fucker Blondie, you'll lose every time." He laughed again as Andrea stood up.

"It wasn't personal." Her words stop him.

"What's not personal?" He asked having no clue what she was talking about.

"Not kissing you."

Merle froze and looked at her. She was going there? Fine, he'd fucking go there. "Wrong Blondie, I take it real personal when a woman says she'll fuck me but not kiss me. You think you're some hot shit because he fucked you? Took you to his bed? Are you seriously fuckin' stupid enough to think you were his only woman? Fuck no, he had Karen warming his bed, not to mention others as well, and I'll tell you something else Blondie."

Advancing on Andrea, Merle was incensed at her fucking naïve stupidity. "Every time he fucked you, he was thinking of your Nubian companion. Every. Single. Time." Swinging out his left hand, Merle flicked his thumb and middle finger against Andrea's forehead demeaningly.

"Not so fuckin' smart after all are you Blondie?" He laughed again as he pulled back the curtain and left the cell.

##########

Watching Andrea drive off later, Merle shakes his head and walks back to his cell. He pauses on the threshold seeing Carol stripping his bed.

Leaning his shoulder on the jam he watched silently.

"She always was a snotty bitch." She said musingly as she threw the sheets at Merle and then began to remake the bunk bed. "Full of airs and graces, above her own station, never mind anyone else."

"True enough." Merle answered her companionably.

"Self-important." Carol continued and Merle agreed again.

"You with us?" Carol questioned him as she finished making the bed and moved to him, taking the soiled linens from him.

"I'm with you and Daryl." Merle surprised himself by answering. And he was.

"Good enough, there's a war coming." Carol said as she watched him calmly.

"Yeah." Watching her walk away, Merle entered his cell and lay down. Wiggling until he was comfortable he inhaled, scented Carol and smiled.

When he dreamed that night, he dreamed of grey hair and sky blue eyes, with long lithe limbs that wound around him tightly.


	6. Merle & Carol

_A/N – In wanting to pair season four badass Carol with season three Merle, I had to go a little AU. The method behind my madness is that:_

**_1._**_Season one and two Carol wouldn't have been able to take Merle in ANY way. _

**_2._**_Season three Carol is mired in Daryl. _

**_3._**_Season four Carol though is like all bets are off. _

_So, sit back, relax and enjoy._

* * *

_Setting__ – __Merle never hooked up with the Governor. Carol has been thrown out on her own by Rick though and comes across Merle when he's out one day. And though Merle never had a scene with Carol in season one, I'm pretending he did and that he called her Mouse from the get go._

* * *

Kicking the ground as he walked Merle glanced around casually. He was close to home, but still felt like he was being watched. No fucking zombie was out this way, that he knew for sure. He'd set traps in a circle around where he was living now.

But a human? A wily one? That was another matter. So Merle affects casualness as he continues on, checking his traps, gathering the small game he'd gotten and then turning toward where he's made his home nowadays.

Dispatching the couple of zombies hung up on his traps he leaves them in place. He's found that their smell masks his, gives him more safety. He can work with that. Smell was the least of his worries now, now he was all about survival.

It wasn't like he had company anyway.

The sense of being watched leaves Merle as he walks back to where he has ensconced himself. He has traps for humans closer to home. It's a day later when he is having breakfast and drinking some of the coffee he hoards like a miser that he gets the shit shocked out of him by a knock on the door.

Fucking zombies wouldn't knock.

Grabbing up his shotgun, he chambers a round and then moves out the back door and around the side of the house before he ducks under it to come up from underneath the porch.

As his head and shoulders clear the opening he finds himself eye to eye with a pair of Vibram soled boots. Female boots.

Female boots encasing legs covered in shit-brown cargo pants with a small tear in one knee. A couple of knives are sheathed on the belt and the dirty and torn undershirt is tucked behind them allowing easy access.

A flannel shirt is pulled back as well and Merle sees small breasts poking almost impudently at him as his gaze moves up, shotgun still levelled over a hell of a fucking sexy collarbone and further up a long slender neck that looked like it should belong on a swan.

His composure cracks when his own blue eyes meet a pair of curiously amused blue ones in return. Eyes under dark brows and surrounded by the softest, palest alabaster skin he's ever seen on a woman.

All of it topped by closely and carelessly cropped salt and pepper hair.

Fuck a duck, it was Mouse.

"Mouse?" He asked as he let the shotgun drop.

"Merle, I wasn't sure yesterday it was you." She answered as she reached a hand out and he grasped it with his left, surprised as hell at the strength she displays to help him step up out of the hole he'd made in the porch specifically for the purpose he'd just used it for.

"Good move by the way, if I hadn't seen the step down there you'd have caught me with my back to you." Carol gestured down at the hole and Merle can see because of the early morning sun that you can indeed see the step he's set down on the ground to help himself get up to the porch in a hurry if he needed to after ambushing someone. He'd have to fix that.

Ignoring her gaze locked on his missing right hand Merle jerked his head at her couple of backpacks. "Planning to stay awhile then are you Mouse?" He asked her sarcastically.

He hasn't asked her about Daryl, he won't ask her about Daryl.

Though Daryl was the reason she was here, she'd recognised his human traps because Daryl would have shown them to her. Fuck it all.

"I grabbed some things from my vehicle I thought you might need, thought you could use the company since you're on your own."

Nodding Merle looked her up and down. He could see Daryl in her very stance. He'd taught her a lot, the small game strung on a piece of wire hanging from the porch rail only confirmed his thought.

But it wasn't just that, it was her, Carol. She'd found the steel in her spine he'd always thought was there buried under broken bones and bruises.

Pursing his lips Merle looks at her, really looks at her. She'd carry her weight and then some he thought. So, he jerked his head and moved around her to open the door.

He watched as Carol stepped inside. It was a small cottage he'd found. Living room, kitchen, bathroom and two bedrooms. He gestured to the second bedroom. "All yours, I'm finishing breakfast." Merle turned away and walked to the kitchen, he stopped halfway there to look back at Carol. "Don't ask, don't offer any information either Mouse or you're out the door."

Not stopping to see Carol's nod of acknowledgement, Merle heads back to the kitchen and finishes his now cold coffee.

They settle into a routine as autumn heads toward winter. Merle was stocking up, like always these fucking days. Preparing for the worst, assuming it'll come to pass like it always did. Fucking zombie apocalypse didn't change that for him.

It takes him a while to get used to having another human around. Its not like Carol returns to her quiet mousey ways, but…she's not noisy, not voluble, not trouble. She's an asset.

When he realises this Merle frowns. He didn't want her to be an asset, he didn't want her to be useful, he didn't want her to be pleasant to be around. He didn't want to depend on her.

He didn't want to want her.

When he realised this he denied it with his very being. No, he didn't want her, they barely spoke, communicated mostly in grunts and whispers after they had their morning talk about what each of them would be doing for the day.

She wasn't someone he wanted, he liked women with curves, with hair as brassy as their personality. He ignored the way she filled out her trousers, the way her shirts gaped when she bent over in front of him. Didn't care to know if she was going it on purpose or not.

Things come to a head one bitter night. The windows are all blackened and they're sitting by the wood stove in the kitchen. Merle was reading and Carol was sharpening their knives.

She speaks out of the blue, startling Merle out of his dozing state, the book jerking in his hands. "I propositioned your brother a while ago." She said no more, didn't even look at Merle. She'd broken the second of his two rules by offering information.

But it wasn't something he was going to kick her out over, he was too used to her company now. Having come to that decision though, he doesn't take her bait.

Standing and stretching, he merely grunts a goodnight and moves off to bed.

More days pass, but there is an awareness of Carol now that Merle hadn't had before. Sure he'd looked, what red-blooded man wouldn't? Only woman around for fuck knows how many miles, of course he was going to fucking look.

And he'd caught her looking a time or two as well. They could be the last people on earth for all he knew. Snorting at his humour Merle thought if that was the case the human race was fucking doomed.

Remembering when that fucking slut had tried to make him out to be her baby's mother, Merle laughed quietly to himself and shook his head. This Dixon shot blanks. No way he was going to carry on the Dixon line.

The next time Carol speaks, they're in the back yard, butchering a pig they'd caught. Merle is filthy and covered in mud and a line of blood from where he'd grazed his arm on a briar.

"Get yourself cleaned up, don't want that to get infected, we don't have much in the way of medication." Merle grunted, but obeyed her nevertheless.

Carol checks it when he's clean and back in the kitchen. That night she tells him about Sophia and what had happened to her. She makes no mention of anyone else in the group from the quarry, just her daughter.

Merle doesn't even think of Ed and Carol doesn't mention him.

It takes him nearly all winter to figure she's courting him in a way. A weird fucking way. A Dixon way if he's being honest. She's showing she can support him, stand by his side, be the asset he already thinks her to be. A partner.

And Carol humbles Merle with the realisation. He'd never thought himself worthy of being courted. Sure he was a Dixon, he had worth, but not usually to women apart from a cock to get off on.

When it got around as of course it did that he was shooting blanks, he was a sure bet, a safe bet. Can't get pregnant with Merle, he don't shoot live ones.

He didn't mind admitting he'd gone a little overboard a time or two and had to end up visiting the doctor for some antibiotics. Shaking his head, Merle brings himself back to the present.

Carol is cooking some of the eggs they'd gathered. They've got a couple of hens. Roosters didn't last beyond their first cock-a-doodle-doo because of the noise.

There wasn't anything like a well roasted chicken.

"Been lucky with food." Merle finally speaks one day without prompting.

He watches Carol glance over at him with a smile. "We have, hopefully come spring the ground will soften take to some vegetables being planted too."

Roots, they're putting down roots together. "Still don't want to know anything Mouse." Merle said back to her, knowing she'd understand what he's saying.

Pursing her lips, Carol looks like she's about to speak, but eventually nods her head and returns her focus to the sewing in her lap.

As winter turns toward spring Merle slowly starts to talk to Carol. He'd never be the way he was before, didn't care to be if he was being honest with himself. He could admit privately he'd been an asshat at the best of times.

A fucking violent retard reminiscent of Carol's husband at the worst of times. How he was brought up, but that was an excuse. He might not be a nice man, but he wasn't stupid.

They're planting one day in the spring when it begins to rain. Merle stands and lets the water run down his body. They've been lucky in the house, still having running water, no heat, but running water.

He turns to Carol and the spit dries in his mouth. She is bent over, facing away from him and undoing her boots. He watches as she stands, balancing like a gazelle and pulls them off with her socks. Then she sets them aside and strips off her two t-shirts letting them drop onto the muddy ground as well.

Merle finally gets his tongue to work. "The fuck you think you're doin'?" He asks raspily.

"Getting naked in the rain." Carol answers him as she looks over her shoulder at him with a smile before she unhooks her belt and undoes her trousers and lets them fall. Her panties soon follow leaving her gloriously naked in the rain.

Feeling the rain soak his own clothes, making them cling to him, Merle just watches as Carol spreads her arms out and raises her palms to the sky, cupping the rain as it settles gently on her palms. Her head tilts back and she opens her mouth, letting the drops settle on her tongue.

And like that his cock is a hardened rod in his pants. Thick, erect and pulsing for the woman standing in front of him. A strong, sexy, confident woman who has propositioned his brother.

"Did Daryl say yes?" Merle questioned as he fought with every fiber of his being not to reach out and touch Carol.

"To what?" Carol asked him as she turned toward him, letting him see her naked from the front. Like him, her body is covered with scars and burns. From the shoulders down she is not a pretty sight, but then neither is he.

"To you." Clenching his fists, digging his fingers into his palms, Merle feels his knuckles crack.

"Oh, no. Of course not." Carol answered. And she moved, toward Merle.

And the dam that was Merle Dixon's restraint broke with those five words.

Growling, he leapt at Carol, sliding into her on the wet ground, his boots nearly going out from under him, he grasps her tightly to him, fingers fisting in her slightly longer hair and pulling her head back harshly.

"You ready for me darlin'?" Mouth hovering Merle didn't kiss her, waiting for her affirmative before he began to feed.

"Yes Merle, I'm ready." Carol answered him. Slow and clear, making sure he knew she was telling the truth.

Blue locked on blue and Merle lowered his lips, keeping his eyes open so he could see Carol's expression. He hadn't forgotten what that fuck-up husband had been like, even if she gave no sign she'd ever been abused these days.

He knew it had happened, he'd seen it with his own eyes.

Everything in Merle screamed to fuck Carol hard and fast, get it over and done with. But a more subversive part of him, a part almost buried under hypocrisy, attitude and upbringing came to the forefront and told him in no uncertain terms to take his time, be gentle.

_Make it last, it might be your last. It might be her last and you only get one first with her. If you want a tomorrow, make it last. Make it count._ The words whispered in the back of his brain, sounding awfully like his Mama.

"Smart woman." Merle muttered as he pulled away. Carol frowned up at him, though not too far up at him, she was Daryl's height which meant close to his own.

"One more time, you sure?" He asked again, just once, just checking. Because as much as he wanted to obey the softer part inside him, it was weighed down by everything else, fighting against it, he didn't know if he could keep going that way. "Ain't gonna be gentle woman, but I can't say I want to remind you of your fuckin' husband either." He finished with.

"You won't, nothing about the man you are now reminds me of Ed. Nothing Merle." Carol pushed back into his arms, harder, tighter than before and God help him, Merle let her, even pulled her in more.

And Merle's walls crumbled, the fortress he'd built brick by brick against the world after he'd cut off his own hand to escape death on a rooftop in Atlanta a few years ago crumbled under the onslaught of alabaster skin and blue eyes like his own.

A smile as gentle as the rain still splattering down and at the same time strong enough to batter and reshape the world around them if given enough time crossed Carol's face.

Cruising his lips over Carol's, Merle feels them soften and open under his. His tongue pushes inside hesitantly almost, unsure. It's been so long and kissing hadn't exactly been something most of the women he'd hooked up with before in life had been into.

Carol's tongue sweeps over his and Merle opens his mouth wider, encourages hers in, lets her tongue control the kiss, even as his hands glide over her skin, scarred and burned and still soft, despite the world they lived in now.

A world without deodorant and moisturizer, cologne and sunscreen Somehow though, Carol's skin that was usually covered by clothing had remained soft. Pliable to the touch. Rubbing his rough nails into the skin of her hips, Merle let a little roughness escape, he needed to.

And Carol moaned. So he did it again, keeping his eyes open, making sure he wasn't causing a bad memory. When she pushed her hips insistently against his cock he knew the moans were good.

Pulling back a little, taking a deep breath, Merle looks at Carol blinking back at him, rain had soaked her good as it had him, though it looked a hell of a lot better on her, running down her body in rivulets.

Taking a muddy step forward, Merle backed Carol up, keeping on moving as his eyes roved over her, taking his time, learning her body without clothes.

When Carol's back touched the back porch, Merle pulled her forward, into another deep kiss. This time he took, plundering Carol's mouth, making it his own. And she let him. Her own hands roaming over his back, short nails scraping him though his thin t-shirt.

Reaching his hand over his head, Merle yanked on the t-shirt and pulled it over his head, mouth leaving Carol's for the bare minimum amount of time.

He freezes though when Carol's fingers graze his prosthetic. He'd never spoken about what he'd done and she'd never asked. She had looked surprised when she'd seen him so he knew Daryl had never mentioned it, or at least not to Carol.

"Can I take it off?" Carol asked him softly, her eyelashes spiked with water as she looked at him. There was no sorrow, no pity, no embarrassment, no curiosity in her gaze. Just need. Need for him, for Merle Dixon. He wasn't so far gone he didn't know general need from specific need. And Carol, wanted, needed him to be with her, to fuck her.

Nodding once, short and jerky, Merle watches Carol's head bend as her teeth catch her bottom lip between her teeth in concentration. His eyes move to her fingers as they tentatively unbuckle his straps that hold his prosthetic to his upper arm.

When they're loose, she holds the prosthetic in one hand as her other slowly slides it off his forearm. All of their time together, he'd never let her see his stump. Without the prosthetic he'd kept it covered though it was as healed as it was ever going to be.

But it wasn't pretty.

Turning slowly with it, Carol set it carefully behind her on the porch and turned back to Merle. He slid his stump around her waist and pulled her to him as he pushed his fingers back through her hair, tilted her head back.

And then with a smile that made Carol smile in return, he moved his lips down to her neck, kissing and licking voraciously at her all the way. He grinned to himself as he felt Carol writhe against him.

Slim limbs covered in marred skin sliding over his own now, her legs pushing between his as she ground her hips on his cock. "Merle, don't tease, not this time." She whispered as he moved back again to look at her.

Flushed skin, glimmering sapphire eyes and reddened lips and a raw neck from his stubble. Pausing, Merle considered her request. Decided to be honest.

"'M barely holdin' on darlin' you sayin' that is gonna make me be nothin' but rough." He cursed his accent thickening, knowing it was a dead giveaway of how aroused he was.

Fisting her hands in his grey chest hair, Carol looked up at him as she tightened them, making him flinch at the pain and his cock jerk.

"My name is Carol, not darlin' and for the record, what the hell makes you think I'm not barely holding on too? I have needs too." Finger's unclenching in his chest hair, Carol stroked them down Merle's stomach, making his muscles quiver as she did so.

"Hmm, someone like's that." She muttered as she stopped at his belt buckle. Then she looked back at him as her fingers unfastened it nimbly. Pushing his pants and briefs down his legs, she watches as he toes out of his boots and steps out of the rest of his clothes.

Now as naked and vulnerable outside as Carol is, Merle let her pull him in. Her hand clasping his cock to do so. "Think you're gonna' lead my around by my cock woman? I gotta tell you…that might work." He said with a raised brow.

Stopping for a few seconds, Carol looked at him then she threw back her head and laughed, long and loud making Merle's lips twitch lazily in response as well.

"How about I just go down on you instead?" She asked as she kneeled to take Merle's cock in her mouth.

Slow and steady, hot wet heat engulfed him, made him close his eyes, tilt his head back and moan at the still-raining sky. "Fuuccckkkk." Drawing the word out, Merle let Carol suck him down. He felt pre-come release and opened his eyes to look down and see her draw back as she swallowed it, head tilted as if she was considering his taste like a fucking wine drinker.

"Satisfied?" He asked her drolly.

"More than, surprisingly sweet."

Rolling his eyes Merle pushed his cock back at her mouth. "Then suck it. Get it wet for your pussy." He said frankly, as his left hand held it at the base, keeping it steady for Carol.

"And if I said I'd rather take you in the ass?" Carol ignored his cock to look up at him and ask.

"Got a reason you don't want me in your pussy?" Merle asked, ignoring her asking about whether he wanted in her ass, no man would turn that down, just like they'd never turn down a blow job.

"No, just curious." Carol opened her mouth as she asked that question and sucked Merle down, taking him deep, until her lips touched his fingers at the base of his cock.

"Fuck yeah." Merle said as he felt her tongue laving the underside of his cock. "You're a natural."

He both felt and heard Carol snort at him, but she is moving already, making his toes curl in the mud witih pleasure so he lets it go. Propping his right arm behind him so she can't see it, Merle lets his left rest on Carol's shoulder.

He can see her breasts, pink nipples pebbled from the rain and he hopes, from arousal as well. He watches as she strokes one of her own hands down her body, pinches her nipple and then moves down to her pussy.

"Uh uh, leave that for me." He says as he watches her begin to play with herself.

Pulling back a little, Carol stands, Merle hears a knee crack as she does so and he smiles, knowing his would do the same. Before she can say anything or move further, he boosts her up onto the porch, now her pussy is level with his chest making him grin.

"Spread those sexy legs woman." He ordered her as he stepped forward. She did have sexy legs, mile long ones to boot. Most of the time he was a tits man, but sometimes a woman's legs would draw him in, like Carol's had since she'd arrived on his doorstep in the autumn.

Back at the quarry, she'd been carrying a little extra pudge and it had shown in her thighs and calves. That wasn't in existence anymore, now she was long, lean and streamlined. Like a greyhound.

Honed by fear and loss, grief and sorrow. Surviving on nothing but guts until that backbone he saw in every glance and look now had up and taken over he'd bet.

He could use some himself he knew. Not that he'd admit that. But he figured she knew.

He'd never asked about Daryl, he'd never asked about the fucking cop or the nigger that had left him to die either. Wasn't sure he wanted to know. If they were alive, he'd feel like he had to leave and look for them, for a fucking Dixon family reunion and for vengeance over his lost hand.

Not even his left fucking hand, but his right one.

Shaking his head clear of anything except the weeping pussy in front of him, Merle leans down and inhales. Sharp, tangy and overwhelmingly female. Carol, it was Carol.

When she flinched back, Merle's arms bracketed her hips and he growled at her. "Sorry, I just…" He's puzzled by the flush that works over her skin, mottling her face and chest and upper arms in red splotches. Not a pretty look but one that doesn't bother him.

"Don't think you're changin' your mind now do you…Carol?" He paused before saying her name in a flat and deliberate tone.

"No, I just," She stopped again and her hips jerked. Merle growled again and she huffed at him. Then she shook her head and he was sure he heard her mutter something about him being a mule-stubborn jackass before continuing. "I didn't shower yesterday as you know, haven't showered yet today either."

Merle got it, they bathed every few days, not every day since they'd found that the water for the house came from a well and they didn't know how deep it was yet.

"'S fine, you sucked me, turnabout is fair play." He leans down and licks a fat wet strip up her pussy before she can try to jerk away or dissuade him again.

Her tasted exploded on his tongue and Merle moaned now as he went back for more. "Hold yourself open for me, can't fuckin' do it myself." He grunted as his forearms pushed on her thighs and he spread her wide open for him.

"Pretty." He continued on as Carol obeyed his order. Her long fingers came to her lips and she pulled them back, exposing her pussy and clit to his burning gaze. "Very pretty." He amended.

She was pink and luscious, her outer lips holding her inner ones and her clit a beautiful, glistening secret. Merle could see her weeping for him, juice running down into the crack of her ass where her hole was flexing as well.

"Into ass play?" He questioned her.

"Yes." Carol answered him evenly and he flashed a grin at her making her roll her eyes at him. "Men." She said and he laughed before he got down to business.

Forearms bracing her thighs again, Merle inhaled once more before dropping his head and licking Carol all over. His tongue slurping obscenely at her as he bit and sucked at her skin.

"Ohhh…" Carol said as her back arched off the floorboards.

Merle smiled to himself. Oh was right, she was just fine, just fucking fine. He was still as hard as stone and wanted to bury himself inside Carol's pussy, but he needed to taste her some more first.

She felt like nectar of the Gods, the more he licked, sucked and swallowed, the more nectar Carol released, he was going to be swimming in her juices when he finally fucked her.

Mouth working, Merle flicked his tongue over Carol's clit, tapping on it before sliding down to her hole where he fucked it into her. Then he moved back to her clit, wanting her to come before he fucked her.

"Come for me woman, come on my tongue and I'll fuck you through to another orgasm, better than you've been fucked in your life." He vowed as his tongue circled her clit. Settling down, Merle gave himself over to the musky smells and wanton desire emanating from Carol.

Flattening his tongue he rubbed it over Carol's clit and then flicked it again making her jump. He saw her fingers pull her lips back even more harshly and he buried his chin in her pussy, letting his stubble rasp over her inner folds harshly.

And even as Carol flinches away from such direct stimulation, Merle's tongue slips under the hood of her clit and he flicks directly on her bundle of nerves and pushes Carol over into a blinding orgasm.

"Ohhh…" She moaned long and loud but said no words. Continuing to flick and tongue at her, though not directly on her clit, just skating over the hood, Merle keeps her on the edge and just as she flinches away from him he pulls back and then drags her across the porch, heedless of splinters as he pulls her down and onto his cock, his arms banding around her waist to support her.

Stepping back carefully he lets her sink onto his cock as he lowers himself to the steps. Carol's arms move around him to brace on the steps behind him as her legs spread and her feet rest on the bottom step, her head falls back and Merle takes advantage by leaning in to lick along her jugular.

"Fuck." He muttered. She was hot and tight and wet and her internal muscles clenched down on him, holding his cock in a clinging vice of pleasure.

"Yes." Carol said to him as her hips began to move, her thighs flexing madly as she began to work herself off on him. Merle gave no thought to her fucking him, just leaned back and let her have at him.

Eyes hooded, Merle watched Carol concentrate on her movements, his elbows were resting on the step above him, Carols' arms grasping the edge of the stairs beside them.

Letting Carol fuck him was a turn on to watch. She was full of pleasure, her body trembling with it and it was a beautiful thing to see, rain still dropped down on them, her nipples were still pebbled, they drew Merle in so he reached for Carol before silently cursing that he'd reached out with his right hand, he wound it around her instead, pulled her in close.

Then he dipped his head and took a nipple in his mouth, sucked on it strongly. Carol's resulting moan was music to his ears, he flexed his hips and pushed up into her, went as deep as he could. Another hissed yes from Carol told him he'd succeeded.

Leaning back, Merle kept hold of Carol's nipple and pulled it with him, stretching it painfully. Giving the beast something to feed off, trying to leash himself before he hurt her.

"More." With that one word however, the rest of Merle's fortress crumbles, like rocks into the ocean. And his arm winding around her pulls her to him, imprisons her as he pushes up and twists around, swearing a little as he feels a splinter dig into his hip.

Shoving Carol down, he pushes his cock inside her, hard and fast and deep again. Grunting when he feels Carol clench down on him, he ignores her need and pushes for his own. Leaning his right forearm across Carol's collarbone, Merle pushes his left hand on her hip and pulls back.

And then he moves, fucking her madly as his mind shifts, becomes a blank canvas, wanting, needing only to come, to mark, to own.

All of his pain and suffering. The trauma he'd endured cutting off his own hand, the missing months where he couldn't remember anything about where he'd been or what he'd done to survive. His resulting unsteady calm facade that was interrupted by dreams, his slow realisation that he had survived and that wasn't a bad thing.

That it was okay to survive, more it was okay to live. All of it came crashing through his soul. It had been getting closer and closer to the surface, the more he'd been in Carol's company. The more he'd seen how she'd changed, adapted, grown to fit the world around them now.

She'd both made him feel like a man because he'd done the same and less like a man because while he had done the same physically, mentally he was the same damaged Dixon he'd been before the infection hit. And if Daryl walked up to him tomorrow, he'd go back to being the same asshat he'd been when they'd last been together.

Brought back to the present by the press of two cool palms against his cheeks, Merle stops moving. He looks down at the woman underneath him.

"Fuck." He said as he pulled himself off her.

Stepping back, feeling his feet sink into the muddy ground, Merle moved back and gathered up his clothes and Carol's. He walked up the stairs, leaving her splayed on the steps, legs open and body still quivering. Dropping Carol's clothes on the steps beside her, he grabbed his prosthetic and went inside. In his bedroom, he dumped his clothes and then grabbed a dry set before moving to the bathroom and turning on the shower.

Rinsing himself off, he's dressed and standing in front of the basin when the door opens and Carol stands there looking at him. Ignoring her Merle stands there, gripping the sink and just breathing.

Carol steps into the bathtub and turns on the shower to rinse off as well. When Merle hears the water, he gathers the remnants of his being and leaves her be.

Days pass without them speaking, now they've been together after a fashion though, Merle finds himself more attuned to Carol, he senses her moods, he hears her of an evening when he's been in bed for hours as she touches herself.

Once he was even sure he heard his name.

It takes the passing of spring into summer before he comes to the realisation that if he's going to have a chance with her, he needs to man up in more than one way.

And so, one evening when they're sitting on the porch after a day of checking their traps, Merle hawks a globule of spit over the railing, takes a deep breath and speaks.

"Was Daryl alive last you knew?" He asks the one question he's wanted to know since the first time his eyes had reconnected with Carol and he'd recognised her.

"Yes." Carol doesn't expand her answer and Merle is grateful, he didn't think he could stand that. Yes he was taking the initiative and asking questions, but he couldn't deal with finding out something he hadn't asked the question to.

"Did you leave or get separated?" He watched Carol take a deep breath and exhale slowly.

"Rick cast me out." She didn't say anything more.

"Fucker is still alive?" Merle asked now.

"He was last I saw." Carol says.

"Why did he cast you out? Where the fuck was Daryl?"

"He was on a run. We found a prison and cleaned it out. We had a nice thing going and this infection hit, a weird type of bug. He was off getting medical supplies when Rick and I went in the opposite direction for food. He told me not to come back when I admitted to killing the first two infected people to try and stop it from spreading."

"Were they already sick?" Carol nodded, "Fucker should have gotten rid of them himself." She nodded again.

"Most times he was a good leader. When he wasn't though," Carol shook her head, "Things went bad in the worst kind of way. Like when he told us we were all infected."

Merle gaped at her. "What the fuck did you just say?"

"We're all infected, we went to the CDC after the camp was over run. There was one doctor left and he told Rick that we all carried the infection, that when we died, unless we died of a brain injury, we'd all come back as one of the walking dead." Carol ran down and took another deep breath.

"He didn't tell us that for nearly an entire year. And when he did it was only because he'd killed Shane and Carl had to shoot him after he'd turned."

"That freckled kid?" Merle tried to focus, Shane he remembered no problem.

"Yes, turns out Rick was Lori's husband and Carl's father."

Head spinning Merle gaped at Carol. He could feel his old fury rising to the surface and he yanked furiously on the reins to hold himself in check. He had to sort through everything Carol had just told him and work out what he needed to know, not just what he wanted to know.

"What happened to your old man?" He went back even further in time, to the quarry now.

"He was bitten one night at the quarry when it was over run."

"And your daughter?" Merle barely remembered the girl, she'd been a shadow always in the presence of her mother unless she'd run off with the other main brat he remembered, the boy belonging to the skinny-assed widow he now knew to be Rick Grime's wife.

"There was a herd on the highway we were travelling. We hid but a straggler chased her off into the woods where she was bitten because it took us too long to find her. Rick found her and then he lost her trying to lead the dead away." Rancor is in Carol's tone and Merle understands that. He rubs his stump without being aware of it.

"So he stayed with the others from Atlanta, the cop, Rick Grimes then? He tool over?" Merle asked finally.

"Yes, he's the leader and like I said, for the most part he's a good one. But for a while we had a council. I was on it, with some others from the quarry, because we're the ones who gathered the others when a town they were living in was overrun."

Shaking his head, Merle decides to let it rest for now.

"So, the fucker banished you when you were away from the group? Fucking typical." He muttered. He had a good memory of his small amount of time with Rick. A not so good memory of his time from when heat stroke had nearly killed him and caused him to hallucinate. But from before? Fuck yes he had a good memory. He hadn't been that high.

Leaving it all for now, Merle stands and stretches, heads inside as the sun finally sinks below the trees. In bed sometime later he's looking up at the dark ceiling when his door opens. Carol is standing there, she walks in, silent and steady and Merle watches as she pulls up her baggy t-shirt and drops it on the floor before she climbs onto the bed with him.

Settling herself across his thighs, her hands scratch lightly at his abdomen, slide through his pubic hair and pick up his cock. She holds it as he hardens in her hands. When he's erect, she rises up on her knees and moves forward until she hovers over him.

Then she sinks down slowly, Merle groans when he feels how wet she is. "Been playing with yourself Mouse?" He asked her as his left hand grips her hip and his right rests on her thigh.

"No, I've been like this since we talked this evening." She answered. Merle shook his head and pushed his hips up into her.

Carol clasped him, both inside and outside her body, arms winding around him, even as she clenched down on his cock.

Groaning, Merle pushed up into her again. "Fuck." He said softly as he felt Carol begin to move.

Her head fell back as she took her pleasure on his body. Merle just lay there and let her take him. But before she comes, she stops moving and rests her palms on his chest, fingers twining through his hair, tugging a little before she begins to brush them over his nipples.

They pebble immediately and Merle feels his cock jerk inside Carol's warmth. She smiles at him and he shakes his head. Let's her have her way with him. Feels like it's the least he can do.

His inner beast for once is in accordance, purring in pleasure as Carol leans down and kisses him, tongue sliding over his, before she kisses her way down his neck and chest, licks and sucks on his nipples too.

All the while she is milking him though her pussy makes no other movement. Merle finds his butt cheeks flexing, pushing his cock into Carol's haven infinitesimally. His eyes roll as Carol begins to fuck herself up and down on his cock, slow and steady.

"Mouse." He groaned her name, drawing it out as his neck arched. Carol took the invitation and kissed and sucked him there again, Merle's right arm banded around her, pulling her down as his hips began to piston, working for his orgasm.

"Mouse." He said again, this time an endearment. Carol pulled back a little and smiled at him. A smile as old as time, knowing, and erotic as fuck. Merle gave it up for her, gave himself up for her without a fight.

His body reached boiling point and his balls drew up, orgasm oozing from him and into Carol's heated depths as Merle literally whined in pleasure. He jerked again when Carol clenched down and spasmed around his aching cock as his own orgasm drew to a close.

"Merle." She whispered as she leaned down, forehead resting on his.

They breathed each other's air for some minutes as they came down, the humid air of the still bedroom wrapping around them like a blanket. Pulling back a little Carol reached for her t-shirt over the side of the bed.

Merle stayed her with his left hand splayed over her lean thigh. God he wanted to kiss and lick every inch of her gorgeous legs. Carol looked back at him.

"Stay."

One word that carried a wealth of meaning.

Carol looked at him so long Merle nearly found himself squirming, then she nodded and dropped the t-shirt again as she leaned back down, settling beside him on the bed, not on his shoulder or anything, neither of them were the cuddling type he thought, but beside him. With him.

A new routine develops as days pass again. Her things slowly matriculate into Merle's room, the dresser from the spare bedroom soon follows.

And their days and evenings aren't silent any longer. There is laughter. And arguments. And debates and chess and other games they manage to find on their foraging trips.

And on a couple of memorable nights even a game of truth or dare.

Autumn is making itself known one day when Merle realises Carol has been with him for a year or so as best he can calculate. The longest he'd ever been with a woman in his life except his mother.

Remembering that first time in the spring rain, his mother's words in his head. _Make it last._

"I did Mama, I did." He murmured quietly. Carol glances over at him and he smiles.

That night as they sit eating their evening meal and talk about their next foraging run and how it should be the last before winter sets in Merle begins to talk.

About himself, about how he'd cut off his own hand, cauterised it and taken the van that he knew someone had left possibly his own brother on the way back to hopefully check on him. How he'd left Atlanta and his own brother behind in the dust.

Why he didn't know, couldn't remember. "Don't matter none, I survived, found this place, was doing okay." He stopped talking, the fireplace crackling the only sound he could hear apart from the blood pounding in his ears.

Looking up, his blue eyes find the matching pair he sees in his sleep now instead of nightmares of blood and guts and death and decay. "Been doin' better since you came along again."

And there, that smile, he sees that in his dreams now too. And wakes to it every morning. She was worth losing a hand for, because it meant he'd found himself and in finding himself, he'd found his Mouse.


	7. Merle & Sasha

A/N - Merle and Sasha, set in Woodbury. I'm fudging with season three timelines a little to get them to work. My apologies to anyone who reads this and is a voracious Sasha fan. I have honestly not paid very much attention to her character beyond thinking she is strong and practical which I tried to put into this chapter.

* * *

"Careful now darlin', don't want to be twisting a pretty ankle there do you, especially given all you've been through to get here?" Merle slides his prosthetic under her arm and helps her up.

It's easy to ignore her flinch, almost part of his daily life. Eat, piss and ignore flinches from those who thought they were better than Merle Dixon.

He knew they weren't, knew without him finding them, guarding them, they'd be out there now, wandering around, wanting to eat some other fucker or trying to get in here and eat everyone else.

He let her pull her arm away from him the moment she was upright and steady on her feet. She almost reminded him of Michonne.

Not quite though, this one had the survival instinct for sure, given the amount of time she and her brother had run. But she lacked Michonne's ferocity, her sheer feral rage against life for what it had dealt her since the infection had hit.

"Sasha ain't it?" Merle thickened his accent, let her think him a redneck hick. He liked when people underestimated him.

And this filly was running on sheer nerve. He could find an outlet for that. "You needin' somethin' bein' out at night an' all sugar?" He asked her as he stepped back, left her in her own space.

He nearly laughed as she relaxed. He was out of her space, but she was still within his reach.

"Air. I just…we've slept outside at most for so long, a proper roof feels weird." She answers him readily enough, though he can tell she's surprised herself by doing so.

"I hear that sugar, took me awhile to get used to a roof over my head real regular-like too." Merle gestured with his prosthetic to where he knew she'd been put up with her brother and fell in beside her.

He let her ramble as they walked slowly. He had time, curfew was flexible for him. She'd be okay because she was with him. He'd take his power where he could get it.

When they pass into the shadows again, she doesn't tense up which surprises him. "You remind me of my brother." Sasha says quietly as they walk.

"How so darlin'?" Merle asked her as he loosed a crooked grin down on her.

"Not Tyrese, our older brother. Jacob. He was, harder, stronger, faster, meaner." Sasha says, pausing after each word as if thinking for the next one.

"Yeah? How'd he get taken then?" Merle is curious now. Meaner she'd said. He sounded like an interesting dude. A survivor.

"He was in LA, a cop. We lost contact." Sasha says no more and Merle doesn't press. He's got his own demons with Daryl.

Merle stopped at the bench hidden in the shadows. "Have a nice night sugar, I'll be seein' you." He sits down in the middle of the bench and stretches out, arms resting straight out along the back of it and legs sprawled.

Not inviting Sasha to stay, but not ordering her to go either. He was in two minds. She was attractive, no doubt about it. But, she wasn't his Nubian queen. And Merle was feeling the lack of her fighting instinct.

He saw Sasha pause and look back at him. "Goodnight," She paused. "Sorry, I can't remember your name other than it starts with M."

"Merle Dixon at your service ma'am." He tipped an imaginary hat and grinned lightning fast as Sasha snorted at him.

"I doubt that Merle Dixon, but goodnight anyway."

##########

The next night, she comes upon him as he finishes a round of the gates. Falling into step beside him without words. Merle has had a pisser of a day and isn't in the mood for them anyway.

Her silence and lack of emotional overload is refreshing. When she offers him the bottle of water that she's carrying, he nods his thanks and drinks it down.

At the bench, she stops with him, drops down beside him and lays her own arm back along the bench. Merle feels the heat of her arm along the back of his shoulders.

"You be wantin' something sugar?" He asked after a while, he was bone tired and still had to walk to his own apartment.

"You got someone Merle, a special someone, a woman friend or something?" Sasha asked quietly.

She was a quiet personality. Though he'd seen her arguing toe to toe with her hulking sibling.

"Nope, surely don't. I'm scary you know." Fuck, he hadn't meant to say that. Shaking his head at releasing that information to her Merle tipped his head back and finished the rest of the water. "Thanks for the drink." He gave Sasha the bottle and stood, stretching, letting his spine crack before he walked away without looking back.

##########

He doesn't see her the third night. Does his rounds and wanders back to his apartment. Lighting the kerosene lantern, he showers off the day and throws on a pair of sweatpants. Eating his leftovers from dinner, Merle winces at the knock on the door.

He was tired. Irritated with not being able to go after Daryl. And he was horny. Michonne had made him realise how long it had been since he'd been with a woman.

Just once since the quarry. And that had been nothing but fucked up and then some.

Opening the door, he sees Sasha leaning on the door jamb. "Evening darlin' you're out past curfew." So saying, Merle reached his left hand for her belt and hauled her up against him. "You might be stuck here for the night now."

"Yeah, got some cards to play?" Sasha asked him as her hands slid up his arms and wound around his neck.

"I got something you can play." Merle answered her as his mouth swooped down over hers.

Sasha gave as good as she got, her tongue swiping out and into Merle's mouth even as his hand came to her jaw, thumb riding her joint, forcing her mouth to open painfully wide for him.

"You got somethin?" He questioned Sasha.

Breaking away, she pulled back and nodded. "Just so we're clear, this is just tonight. I don't do relationships." She says in a strong, even tone of voice.

Merle cocks his head to the side as he considers her. "This ain't before sugar, the world don't do relationships now if you missed the memo." He says no more, merely backs away, toward his bed, leaving it up to Sasha whether she will follow.

A few minutes later, she is beside him. "Just so we're clear, I won't be fuckin' you, even when my cock is buried so far in your sweet pussy that you'll feel me for days." He says to Sasha as he turns her toward him.

She grabs hold of his wrist, strokes a thumb over his stump and nods. "Same goes."

Grinning hard and fast, Merle pushes her. She lands on the bed with an oomph sound and he straddles her, grabbing her arms, he has them imprisoned above her head before she can think to protest.

Watching her writhe was a pleasure on its own. Leaning down, Merle opens his mouth on her neck, sucking strongly, tongue laving over her hammering pulse.

"No marks!" Her voice is sharp, commanding.

Merle pulls back, "Don't want people to know you've been with Merle darlin'?" He questions her with a tinge of sarcasm in his voice. "I can work with that." He moves in again, tongue stroking down her neck, not sucking though.

He wanted to get laid. If it meant he couldn't suck? Well he just wouldn't suck. Anything.

Laving down Sasha's collarbone, Merle drops the odd kiss, but true to his own thought, he doesn't suck on her skin, his lips ghost over it gently, his tongue flicks across it, making her jump.

But he doesn't suck.

When he gets to her nipples, he looks up. "Got a spare hand sugar?" He asked her drily as he sits back and waits for Sasha to get rid of her clothes.

When she is bare to the waist, Merle leans down and kisses each erect nipple, stroking across it with his tongue, then he kisses down her stomach and breathes on her navel softly.

Feeling Sasha move under him restlessly, Merle rests on his elbow as his left hand undoes her belt and pants. Sliding his hand in, he cups her warmth.

She was nice and toasty. "Sweet and wet, just how I like it. Rubber?" Merle asked as he pulled her heavy work pants and underwear down. He made no comment about the worn state of them, he'd been there often enough.

He watched as Sasha fished a hand into a back pocket, her hips tilting as she did. She was lean, a combination of genetics and hard, adrenalin-induced living Merle thought.

Shifting down a little, Merle licks her upraised hip, noses through her wiry pubic hair, like the hair on her head, it was tightly corkscrewed, springy to the touch.

When cool foil touches his arm, he moves back, his left hand reaching for it. Sasha surprises him by sitting up and pushing his sweatpants down over his hips, her slender black fingers, with their pale pink palms stroking almost languidly over his grey-haired abdomen. They tease through his own pubic hair, stroke over his hardening cock, getting it up to full mast.

Tearing the packet open with his teeth, Merle rolled it on one-handed, thankful that it was something he'd been able to do before he'd gone and sawed off his right hand.

"Position?" Sasha lay back, her hands tugging on her nipples now as she watched Merle sheath himself in the condom.

"You feel up to a ride sugar?" Merle asked as he watched her, he felt a need to watch her pretty breasts bounce as she rode his cock like a fucking racehorse. She was built for speed, long and lanky, all leg and a heart that would beat to death even as it kept on running.

Jerking her head in a nod, Sasha pulled her legs up and moved to Merle's left, he palmed her thigh as he moved forward and went to lie down.

Surprising him, Sasha moved snake-like and slid her body over his back before he turned around. Her fingers moving around to tweak his nipples, pinch them lightly and then pull back to stroke down his back, her palms moving slow and sure, she stroked him pleasurably, moaning a little as she did so.

And Merle got it, she liked his size, his huge bones, covered by skin, his height, his broadness. Colour of his skin didn't matter to this one, it was his fucking size. He let his head fall forward as he braced his hands on the bed, his stump and his palm.

Letting Sasha stroke him, have her way with him as her hips ground into his. Yeah, fuck yeah it was a little weird, but hey, he was gonna dip his wick, he could put up with kinky for it. Wasn't like he wasn't kinky too.

Though he wouldn't be exposing any of that to this one. Throwing his head back when Sasha scratched all eight of her fingers down his spine, Merle pushed his hips back into hers, "Bet you wish you had your strap-on now don't ya' sugar?" He can't help taunting her.

When she digs her jagged fingers in, Merle moans louder, just for her. Because she needs it and he needs to fuck her.

Feeling her palms push on his hips, he moves down and throws himself on his back, his left hand fists his cock, holding the condom by the base as he watches Sasha's legs move up to straddle him.

She looks down and takes herself in hand, spreads herself for his cock as she leans up and then situates herself over his cock before she begins to slide down on it.

"Yes." She says even as Merle himself hisses in pleasure. She is warm and snug and he can feel her wetness, even through the rubber on his cock.

When she is seated, she lets go of her pussy lips and rests them on her thighs. Merle rubs his back on the bed, feeling Sasha's scratches smarting against the weave of his bedding.

He raises his left hand and palms a breasts, thumb brushing her nipple. "Ride me sugar, milk me like you mean it." He orders her softly. His voice a low growl in the humidity of his room.

The kerosene lantern flickers in the paltry breeze and shadows cross Sasha's face, making her look like a demonic demon. Almost as if Merle was fucking a walker.

Shuddering a little at the thought and of something he tried to wipe from his memory, Merle pushed his hips up, his knees bending and his left hand suddenly pushing Sasha so she leaned back on his thighs.

"Well sugar? You got me, go on and make the most of me now." He says, deliberately putting some bite in his tone. Making her realise he knew her, that he wasn't as stupid as he pretended.

Sasha frowned at him and Merle could see she was thinking seriously of just leaving. So he flexed himself inside her, made her feel what she'd be walking out on.

"Gonna waste a rubber now? With the way the world is? Shame on you darlin'." He spoke again, full on sarcasm coating his words now.

He watched Sasha narrow her eyes at him and knew he had her. She wasn't stupid this woman, but she had an issue with being made to feel like she was, probably some stupid fucking holdover from childhood, or having what he was sure were two maybe more hulking older siblings.

At that thought, Merle mind stuttered. Was she? No, he wasn't going there. Shoving the uncomfortable thought away, Merle flexed inside Sasha again and pushed up.

This time, Sasha pushes down and her hips begin to work him slowly. Merle watched her as she closed her eyes and tilted her head back.

Her pussy clenched down on him, wet and tight and he closed his own eyes.

It was easier.

"I come first." Sasha said suddenly, pulling Merle out of his fantasy.

Looking up at her hovering over him, Merle raised an eyebrow. "I look like the sort of man who'd leave a woman high an' dry sugar?"

"Maybe, just wanted to clarify that point." Sasha says firmly.

Shaking his head, Merle closed his eyes again and let himself settle in to the pleasure of a woman wrapping his cock in their heat again. Hell he if knew when he'd feel it again that was for sure.

Arching his back, Merle pushed his hips up and into Sasha, letting her feel him deep inside. He had nothing to be ashamed of size-wise at all.

He opened his eyes and watched as Sasha moaned and screwed her hips down on him.

Pushing himself up on his elbows, Merle fucked his hips up, hard and fast as Sasha ground herself down on him. Her hips moving in sinuous gyrations that made his eyes roll in his head.

"Yeah." He muttered as he felt his balls drawing up. "Get yourself off quick now darlin' been awhile." Merle says to her as he clenches his teeth, holding himself off from orgasming.

"Uh." Sasha grunted as she moved a hand down and flicked at her clit, fingers moving firmly over the nub of now exposed flesh. Merle watched through the shadows of his room as she got herself off.

Sasha's own head fell back now as she began to orgasm, her inner muscles clenching down on Merle like a vise as she rotated her hips in a now stuttering rhythm.

Fucking up into her clinging heat, Merle let his orgasm come, his balls drawing up and emptying into the condom as Sasha milked him dry. When he'd spurted his last shot of come he flopped back down on the bed, sweat sheening his body.

Keeping his eyes closed, he shivered as cool air hit his cock as Sasha raised herself up and got off him.

Rolling on his side, Merle dragged off the condom and let it drop to the floor, keeping his eyes closed, he shoved a pillow under his head and let Sasha dress and leave in silence.

They'd both gotten what they'd needed of each other. There wasn't anything to say.


	8. Merle & Patricia

_A/N – My MB __**(What Evil Lurks)**__ suggested to me a while back when I started writing __**Merle's Women **__that I should do Patricia as well. I had forgotten about her character which is remiss of me and when she suggested Patricia, MB also suggested a 'Mrs. Robinson' (showing my age there) type scenario. She was joking, both about Patricia and about the scenario._

_But, when she suggested Patricia, a scene literally exploded into my brain. I wrote the synopsis directly on my kitchen whiteboard where I usually put the grocery list. It's been there for a several weeks, just waiting for me to put my fingers on the keyboard._

_It is __not__ for the faint hearted, though if you're reading Merle…_

* * *

_The farm has fallen, Patricia is bitten on the arm but Andrea managed to save her from being bitten elsewhere._

_They were running together, but Patricia has left Andrea, not wanting to slow her down._

* * *

Merle frowned. The footsteps were hesitant, uneven but not stumbling as a zombie usually was. He stopped, hiding himself behind a tree as they drew closer. The sobs he heard certainly weren't from a zombie, but better safe than sorry.

He couldn't make out words other than the occasional pleading word of 'please'. Were they praying? Shaking his head, Merle silently unsheathes the machete at his side, The hinge on his prosthetic had broken off earlier.

It was still in its experimental stages, he was going to need a better hinge that was for sure. When the footsteps stumble to a stop just before they pass his hiding place, Merle gives in and steps out, sweeping his prosthetic up and across the heaving chest.

When he backs them into the tree, the machete is leaning lightly on their jugular.

"Well well, what do we got here?" He questioned lightly as he looked at his prize. "Bitten are you then?" He asked her as he smelled the rancid death surrounding her.

"Yes, please, please help me, it hurts." She whispered up at him.

Blonde, she was blonde and petite, older though, his age at least, maybe more. Skin freckled and leathered from the sun. The hand digging into his shirt was callused and nicked with scars from a lifetime of physical labour.

"Ain't got no help darlin', if you're bit you're dead, I got no use for you." Merle stepped away even as he felt his gateway to heaven close just that bit more. There was truly nothing he could do.

"Stay, I don't want to die alone." She begged him. "The other one I was with…I left them, I shouldn't have, I don't want to die alone." She whispered now, "I'm so alone, please." She is almost rambling, gasping for breath.

Cursing himself for a fool, Merle steps back, after a look around he shrugs off his backpack and pulls out his water bottle. He directs her to sip the water, not gulp it, takes the bottle and controls her when she ignores him.

Looking down at her arm, he sees the missing flesh, the poisoned bite, blood drying and caked everywhere. "You got any other bites?" He asks her abruptly. He has first aid stuff but isn't going to use it. Nothing can be done for her anyway.

"No, no. They…stopped the others." She speaks haltingly, breathlessly. Almost as if trying to remember what had happened. Looking into her glassy eyes, Merle realises she's probably in shock now that she's stopped her stumbling excuse of a run to nowhere.

"Well, let's get you settled then and I'll be on my way." He said as he took her unbitten arm and moved her toward the shack he'd spent last night in. He'd been on his way back to Woodbury when his vehicle had quit.

Hiking overland had seemed like the way to go, cut off a good number of miles, he'd been checking any vehicle's he came across but so far no luck.

She didn't protest his leaving this time, to be honest Merle was wondering if he should just shiv the back of her brain and be on his way.

But a voice in the back of his head was telling him to just wait with her, ease her toward the end and when she was there, end her properly.

But fuck it, he'd been gone too long, the Governor would be pissed enough as it was. Still, he'd never killed a woman before, didn't really want to now either if he didn't have to.

Shaking his head at his own foibles, Merle muttered to himself as he practically dragged the woman up the couple of steps and inside the shack. Pushing her down on the dusty couch, he was already in the kitchen when she sneezed.

It stopped him in his tracks. Fuck, how long was it since he'd been alone with a woman no matter the circumstances? "You okay?" Merle asked her as he turned back to her.

"I'm, cold." She said in a voice barely above a whisper. And there was the infection raising its fucking ugly head. Because she was sweating worse than he was.

"Plumbing still works here, let me run you a bath, get yourself clean. Ain't no shower." He pre-empts her when she opens her mouth.

Merle watches her sigh and nod and collapse into the couch again. He can see the bite wound, yellow pus oozing from it.

Turning on the tub, he lets it fill, not bothering with trying for the hot water he already knew didn't work.

Going back into the living area of the shack, he picked the woman up in his arms, ignoring her squeak as she woke up. Taking her to the bathroom, he deposited her, clothes and all into the filling bathtub.

"There's detergent under the sink, that'll work." He says as he leaves her there and heads back out again.

When he comes back, she's bare to the waist and wiggling half-heartedly at her underwear, pushing that and her dress down over hips.

Her wet boots were already on the floor as were her socks. "You got a name darlin'?" He asked her as he handed her the detergent bottle and bent to pick up her boots and shake them as dry as possible though why he didn't know. Wasn't like she'd need them soon.

"Patricia." She says as she opens the detergent and squeezes out a handful. She rubs her hands together and then starts at her face. Watching to make sure she was okay, Merle nodded to himself and left Patricia to it.

He tossed in some of the clothes that belonged to the previous owner and went outside to set up some snares around the shack. Back inside, he saw that Patricia had changed into them, her blonde hair was scraggly around her face and tears were streaming from it as she looked at something in her hands. A locket.

Looking up at Merle, she spoke. "I'm going to die like Otis did. Alone and bitten, we thought the government would find us, help them, we kept them all in the barn but no one came to help, and then they were shot. But they kept coming." Patricia's voice is plaintive.

Assuming that Otis was her husband, Merle shook his head. "Don't know Patricia," He said using her first name instead of the blanket darlin' or sugar that he usually called women. She was dying, she deserved better.

"I wish I could tell you. But you're right, you'll be joinin' him soon enough." His blunt words choke off her tears.

"Why did God allow this to happen?" She asked him now. Looking at him like he was the second fucking coming himself.

"How the fuck should I know?" He answered her irascibly. Fuck, he should have just shived her and left her he thought as she lowered her head and began to cry again.

##########

She cries silently into the night, only the odd snuffling sound giving her away. The next day, she is pale and drawn, but still getting around. Merle steps out early and checks everything. He relieves himself as he thinks again about leaving. But he retraces his steps back to the shack again.

When he closes the door behind him, he sees her look over at him. She'd slept on the couch and he on the bed. When he'd left, she'd crawled into his bedding.

"I thought you'd left." She said as she sat up and made to leave the bed.

"Stay there, ain't usin' it again until night." He said as he went to the kitchen. Making use of a few things he plated up a breakfast of fruit and jerky.

Patricia pushed her food around on her plate and Merle shook his head wondering why he'd bothered to even get her to eat something. Her body was shutting down, she was going to die in a day or two, food was the least of her problems.

"He your husband, Otis?" He questioned her quietly.

"Yes, we were married for over twenty years."

"He treated you right then?" Merle asked her now, to keep her talking. He took the plate from her hand and put it aside, if she didn't eat it, he'd eat it for lunch.

"Yes, we had our moments, but most couples do I expect." Her drawl is sleepy, slow and kind of sexy now that he thinks about it.

Shifting uncomfortably at the thought, Merle pushed it away. She was very nearly a fucking walking corpse and not his type anyway with her coarse hair and freckled skin.

"How long's he been gone then?" He asked Patricia now.

"Oh about three months or so." Fuck, not long at all then, she was still grieving for the man and now she was going to join him. "I'll be glad to see him again." She murmured now.

Snorting at the thought of heaven existing in these times, Merle stayed silent. He could debate religion with the Governor when he got back to Woodbury. "No kids then?" He asked her to keep her mind going.

"No, we weren't able." She defies Merle's hope and lapses into silence. The day fades away and Merle doesn't have the heart to tell her to sleep on the couch again.

He can tell the infection is still making slow inroads, the bite that she's bandaged has bled sluggishly off and on throughout the day. It was also beginning to smell more.

Re-bandaging it with a shirt sleeve soaked in metho that he'd found under the sink to try and dry it out and override the smell, it had stung like hell when he'd put it on her he knew, but she'd shuddered silently through it, earning more respect.

When he goes to the couch, her voice drifts to him, husky and intimate in the small room. "Stay with me Merle, please."

Turning to her, Merle looks over at her, the lantern casting a pool of light across her cheekbone and neck and décolletage. She looked softer in the night, prettier, almost beautiful.

"I'll stay." He said as he turned to the couch again. And he would, he could no more leave a woman to die alone than he could leave an animal wounded. He'd put the animal out of its misery and he'd so the same for her before she could rise again.

But for once in his life, Merle Dixon was shocked.

"No, I meant stay with me, in the bed, sleep with me, be with me. You're so warm." She whispered the last sentence but Merle heard her as if she'd shouted from the rooftops.

And like a sick reminder that he was alive and kicking and she was heading toward never breathing again, his cock rose in his pants. Filling and sliding up over his thigh, pre-come leaking like warm treacle against his hip as it slid up to push against his pants, and stick out of the top of them from where he'd pulled his belt off preparatory to going to sleep.

"Please Merle." Her voice whispers on the dank, warm air of the shack, quivering across his skin like a warm tongue, both wet and arousing at the same time.

Closing his eyes, Merle shook his head and turned toward the bed. Ignoring his cock, he climbed in beside Patricia and let her settle her still-sweating body against his side. "You remind me of Otis, he was big too, not so tall though, and he didn't stay so fit, but still."

Patricia slowly moved her bitten arm across his torso. Hesitatingly almost, waiting for Merle to reject her he supposed. "It's okay, I don't got any cuts or shit." He murmurs.

"Thank you." Patricia says to him as she breathes in deeply and then slowly lets it out, her body relaxing as she did so.

Feeling his cock throbbing in his pants, Merle determinedly ignores it. He was an idiot, he should have made use of the bathroom before he'd gotten into the fucking bed.

Focussing on the throb of his cock, Merle let it lull him to sleep, a heartbeat at a time. And he dreamed.

A soft body slithered down his side, a warm wet mouth took his now soft cock inside and then began to suck softly. Moaning a little, Merle spread his legs for them, he felt their hot body move over his legs, pulling his pants down and off.

His hands fisted in rough hair and his hips rose. Eyes still close, Merle felt himself stir in the woman's mouth. Hazily he tried to remember who he'd gone home with. One of the strippers? Maybe a waitress from somewhere?

Why couldn't he remember? Work roughened hands stroke up his thighs and fondle his balls, making them ache and draw up.

And just as he comes, Merle's eyes shot open in shock. "Fuck! Jesus!" He shot back in bed, Patricia's teeth scraping harshly against his orgasming cock as he drew away from her. They pinch on the head of his cock and he curses again, his left hand taking himself in hand protectively.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He asks of Patricia even as he shudders as his orgasm finishes rolling through him.

He watches as Patricia wipes her mouth, her fingers wiping his sperm train back onto his bedding. She doesn't look at him as she fidgets, but Merle won't let her get away with what she'd done.

Jesus, what if she'd fucking died with her mouth on his cock? His skin crawled at the thought. "I'm out of here, you sick cunt." He says to her as he draws back and gets off the bed. As he bends down for his pants he hears her begin to cry.

"No fucking way is that working on me again." He says to her bent head.

"I wanted…you're so warm…like Otis…one more time…be loved." Her words are disjointed, he can barely make out one in every half-dozen or so. But he gets the gist. And he feels like shit for what he'd said to her.

But fuck? Could he do that? Did he even want to do that? He had no fucking idea. With a put upon sigh, Merle gets back in bed and pushes Patricia over on her side. Spooning behind her, he holds her firmly. "No more fuckin' takin' me when I'm asleep. I'll think about it." He says even as he wants to do nothing more than run in fear.

But Dixon's don't fucking run. Huffing, Merle's thoughts continue to whirl around in his brain like a merry-go-round. He feels Patricia finally fall asleep and finds himself joining her some time later.

When he wakes up in the morning, the infection has truly set in, she is shaking and sweat is streaming from her body, drying her from the inside out. She looks drawn and her breathing is ragged.

She looks up at him mirthlessly. "Guess you dodged a bullet then." Her voice cracks on the word bullet, her lips are dry and cracked from dehydration now, her tongue thick in her mouth from the sound of it.

"If you think so darlin'. I still ain't leavin'." Merle answers her as he gets out of bed. Taking up his water, he offers it to Patricia.

"Don't waste it on me Merle." She says as she pushes it away.

Pursing his lips, Merle drinks. Then, he releases the straps on his prosthesis, letting it fall to the table with a dull thud. Making sure the bandage on his wrist is secure, he moves back to the bed and reaches for Patricia's legs, jerking them apart, he climbs in between them and keels there looking at her.

Then, shaking his head, he leans down and his mouth takes hers. As soon as Patricia opens to his invasion, Merle lets the water he'd kept in his mouth pass to her.

Jerking back with a gasp, Patricia swallowed the water making Merle smile triumphantly.

"You…" She trailed off, words stopped against Merle's mouth again as he took her hair and pulled her back in. His mouth cruised over hers now, deliberately taking his time, though he knew she really didn't have much left.

But he'd be fucked if her last memory of sex was a hard brutal fuck.

Nipping down her neck, Merle winces as he smells her. She smells like death. Breathing through his mouth, he pulls back a little. He has to do this for her, he didn't know why, but he knew he needed to. Maybe he just needed too.

Sliding his hands into Patricia's hair, he pulled on it, her head tilted back and Merle leaned down and kissed down her neck to her breasts.

Taking a breath, Merle closed himself to the smell of Patricia, he closed himself to everything except that the body beneath him was female and willing.

She was petite in his arms, soft but still a little angular. Her breasts were small, the pink nipples tight and already beaded in anticipation. Having never breastfed, they were still in good shape, not pert but by no means saggy either.

Palming them, Merle pushed them together and took both nipples in his mouth, sucking strongly, making Patricia arch from the bed, her freckled skin flushing now in arousal more than due to the infection.

"I didn't expect…" She trailed off and Merle looked up.

"Ain't no reason you can't enjoy your last fuck is there?" He asked idly as he pulls off her breasts and nips at them flesh surrounding the nipples, leaving red welts on her skin and making her shiver.

"No, I just, it's wrong. Otis…" She trails off again as Merle kisses down her stomach. He can't risk sucking her though he thinks probably it would be okay. But there is doubt, so he'll be safe.

Fingers though, he can use his fingers. Determined to do this right, now that he'd decided to go ahead with it, Merle meandered his fingers down Patricia's body.

He glided the rough pads of his fingertips over her skin teasingly, alarmed at the heat of it but not allowing her to see it. She didn't have long. But, he'd decided it was the right thing to do.

And so do it he would. He figured if the big guy existed, this would put him several steps closer to those pearly gates people raved about.

Dipping his head, he swirled his tongue around her belly button, scraped his teeth over her hipbone and played havoc with her body. He knew it was working from the way Patricia was moving restlessly underneath him.

Taking himself in hand, Merle thought of how hot and wet Patricia's mouth had been last night. She'd made him come in his sleep for fucks sake. The way she'd tongued his slit, mouthed at his balls, stroked his cock, his pelvis.

Jerking himself, Merle got hard, then he pulled back, pushed Patricia's legs apart and moved in between them. Hesitating one last time he looked up her sweating body to her pale face, hair tangled across her cheeks.

Her eyes were open wide and eyeing him off, she looked like she was in shock again. "You sure 'bout this sugar?" He asked her for the last time. His thought of calling her by her name out of respect dying as he looked into her eyes.

Merle hadn't yet met a woman who'd ever be more than sugar or darlin', given the way the world was, he doubted he ever would now.

A brief nod is all he gets from her, followed by a hacking cough. Fuck, she really didn't have much time. He'd be lucky if he didn't end up fucking a corpse himself.

Pushing forward, Merle prayed to whatever deity existed if anything still did, that he could stay hard.

But Patricia took care of that for him. "Fuck…" His eyes roll in pleasure as he slides into the furnace of her body.

She was hot, burning hot, and moist and wet as she wrapped her pussy around him invitingly. Pushing all the way in until he bottomed out. Merle looked down into Patricia's glazed eyes. She ran her dry tongue over her even drier lips and nodded at him though he didn't speak.

And so Merle fucked her. Long, slow, sliding strokes of his cock through her burning heat, he wrapped her trembling legs around his waist and began to pound into her.

The back of his mind was screaming at him to let go, get out and to run, but he ignored it, caught up in the heated pleasure that was this infected woman he'd met not even two days ago.

Holding her wrists in his hand, Merle imprisoned them on the bed and then began to work his hips faster. His cock was streaming inside her he knew. Leaking his seed. "Can you come?" He asked in a rasping whisper as he kept thrusting into Patricia's welcoming heat.

"No." Her voice cracked, just on that one word. Merle began to slow, not wanting to use her that way. But she forced herself to speak again. "Don't want you to sto…" Her voice trailed off and her head lolled to the side though her eyes didn't close.

And Merle shouted as his balls drew up and he came in her body. Patricia had clenched down on him, holding him tighter than a fucking rubber would have. Spurting inside her molten depths, Merle emptied himself and collapsed on Patricia's still body, grateful he could still feel her heartbeat on his cheek, where he rested his head on her chest.

"Jesus fucking Christ." He muttered to himself. "Fucking sick Dixon." He said as well.

"No, I needed you." Patricia's words are so soft, they're barely spoken at all. And maybe they're not, maybe Merle imagines them.

Rolling off to the side, Merle flung his arm over Patricia, determining to stay with her until she passed. It was only right.

What he didn't count on was drifting to sleep.

Waking to birdlike movement against his abdomen, Merle opens his eyes. Milky blue ones stare back at him in a ghostly pale white face. His heart skips a beat as he realises Patricia was no more.

Just as she lunges for him, he pushes back and she careens into the wall the bed is shoved against. Rolling out of bed, Merle grabs up his machete and swings it, severing her neck and spinal column, dropping her immediately.

"Fuck." He says again quietly now. Breathing deeply, he leans down and cleans the machete. Then he looks around the cabin. Shaking his head, he moves to the kitchen and takes up a rag and the metho.

Soaking the rag, Merle methodically wipes his cock and balls down, hissing at the burning pain it caused but continuing on anyway. Then he wiped the rag over his hands and the rest of his body.

He packed without thinking, without looking at her. Patricia, the woman he'd found in the woods and fucked to her death. It had been wrong, he knew it, but she had wanted it, desired it. Needed it.

Why, he didn't know, would never know. And why didn't matter now anyway. Wrapping her in the sheet, Merle took her outside and laid her on the ground. Pouring over the rest of the metho, he lit a match and tossed it onto her body.

Standing back, he watched her burn. When Patricia's body had burned down and the fire was nothing but a smoking mess, Merle shouldered his pack and walked back into the woods, headed back to Woodbury.

He did not look back.


	9. Merle & Jacqui

_A/N – Merle and Jacqui, S1 at the shopping centre. Don't forget Merle is using heavily and at his worst. And, this one is not for the faint-hearted when it comes to some seriously kinky shit. Consider yourself forewarned. Because yes, this kink does exist and it will majorly squick some of you out. But, this is my creation and like Merle says, he was in the mood to play._

* * *

Merle felt sweat rolling down his body, pooling in the dip of his spine where he was slouched against the molten side of the truck, soaking his underwear, his arms gleamed with it, his fingers damp. He almost felt like he was growing mould in the humid air of the truck as it travelled slowly through the Atlanta streets.

Chink wasn't happy with bringing everyone along and Merle doesn't blame him one bit. But, as much as he didn't want to be around so much coloured skin, he needed away from the camp more.

Watching his foot jiggle, Merle tried to quiet his mind. He wasn't successful. Stupid, he was fucking stupid to come along, he was probably going to fucking die and not one person in this whole fucking sweat shop of a truck would lift a finger to help him.

Shaking his head, his fingers skate over the front of his jeans, checking to make sure his baggie is still there. It is. Relaxing infinitesimally, Merle eyes the people sitting opposite him.

Black and white, dark and light, day and night. Sniggering at his own sick humour as he envisaged them munching on each other, he found himself adjusting. Stupid, wasn't like they really were rug munchers. But a man was entitled to dream.

The truck stopping with a jerk brings him back to the present. Shouldering his rifle, Merle jumps down and uses the butt of it to take down a walker.

When they're inside, he is elected lookout because of his eyesight. "Yeah, whatthefuckever, I gotta' take a piss before I got up and someone better bring me water real regular-like, else I might miss a shot when I need to." He threatens by route. He might be a lot of things, but a murderer really isn't one.

Ignoring his mind as it says he'd kill the nigger if he looked at him the wrong way, he meanders off to the bathroom. Availing himself of the disabled facilities, Merle goes inside not bothering to lock the door behind him.

Finishing his piss, he runs the cold water and wets a paper rag, wiping it over the back of his neck, he closes his eyes and doesn't see the door to the washroom open and close. But he does hear the lock turn into place.

Opening his eyes, he glances around. She is nothing but a shadow, he can see the whites of her eyes gleaming, but nothing else. "God fuckin' forbid you smile woman." He muttered as he turned and ignored her.

"God doesn't have anything to do with this." She responded.

Merle could hear her moving toward him. "Not now honey, I got a headache." He said to her, only half-lying. He did have a headache. From withdrawal. He knew that.

"Then take some of your meth like always." Her words are brusque, not something a lot of people hear out of her.

"Am I supposed to be grateful that you'd sink so low as to fuck a Dixon?" Merle hated that he fucked this woman, just as much as she hated fucking him.

Their need had been borne on the side of the highway, the night Atlanta was bombed. Sweat and semen, urine and tears. They'd given and taken it all together.

And in the light of day they loathed each other with a passion.

"Daylight you know." He said as he opened his jeans. Felt, more than saw her kneel at his feet.

"Not in here." Her words are low, whispered against his moist groin as she inhales.

Against all odds, Merle shivers. It was hot in the airless toilet, smelly too, the emergency light nearly gone now. Before he can think of anything else, her mouth is swallowing him down.

A choked off moan escapes her and he fists both hands in her short hair, pulls her to him so she takes all of him in. Then he pushes her off and grabs her shoulders, pulls her up.

She's an armful and then some, her body soft, female, pliable in his arms if nowhere else. "So you wanna be fuckin' ol' Merle around the other's now darlin'? Want your nigger to find out you like white cock do you?" He questioned as he pushed her against the basin.

It digs painfully into her hips, makes him burn. Fucking bitch. Just because he wouldn't touch her in daylight either didn't mean he didn't want the fucking opportunity.

But she'd stolen it from him, spurned him in the daylight, two days later when he'd seen her at the quarry. Spurned him before he could make any comment or spurn her first.

And he hated that she'd gotten in first. But not enough to stop fucking her warm cunt. Because it was the end of the fucking world and all that jazz.

Yanking on her clothes, Merle pulls them down over her generous ass, scratches his fingers across her flesh and ignores her irritated hiss of pain. He liked her fucking ass, sue him.

"Want your ass." He mutters as he sinks two fingers into her pussy and scoops up her juices.

"Merle, no." She says even as she pushes back on his fingers, bears down and lets him in.

"Yes." He answers, "You want it now, then I'm fuckin' your ass." He stopped, left himself hanging out of his jeans, then before she could speak, he pushed his cock down over a butt cheek, smeared her with himself.

He felt her acquiescence in the way she relaxed and pushed back into his touch. The way her ass arched back, reaching for him. His other hand scissored inside her, stretching her.

"Gonna take me in your ass and come without a fuckin' sound sugar." He orders her now.

Feeling her squirm and push back insistently on him, Merle knows she is answering yes.

Pulling back, he shoves his other hand in his back pocket, pulls out the condom he's taken to keeping on him. Ripping it with his teeth, Merle rolls it on one-handed.

Then before Jacqui can clench down on him, he pulls his fingers out and bends over. His mouth opens on her ass and he spits on her hole, then he slides a finger around her rim, smearing his spit over her.

"Hurry." Her voice is whispered as she pushes back again, tries to take control.

But, in a blinding flash, Merle realises this is his chance. Probably his only chance to get her back.

"Oh now, don't be like that darlin', you know you like comin' on my cock or when my mouth is on you. You don't want to come in my mouth today too?" He laughs to himself, his large body jerking against Jacqui's back as he bends over and licks the back of her neck.

"No, hurry up!" Her voice is sharper now, louder.

"Shh, careful now, people will hear." By contrast, Merle deliberately lowers his voice to such a low whisper that he can feel Jacqui straining to hear him.

He can feel her focussing on him, on his voice now, just as he wants.

"I'm gonna fuck you long and slow darlin', make you dance on my cock. I'm gonna fuck you so good you're gonna bite your fuckin' fingers to gag yourself. You'll bite so fuckin' hard you'll draw blood that people will see and ask you about. You'll have to lie, 'cept they'll see it's a bite that you're tryin' to hide. And they'll ask you what happened. And you won't tell 'em. Because you don't want people to know you're fuckin' Merle Dixon."

Pausing, Merle spat on Jacqui's ass again, pushed a third finger inside her, spread them and leaned down, his other hand sliding up her thigh and his thumb brushing over her clit. "Oh now, that is a pretty thing to feel, all pert and hard like a little pea, just beggin' for me to touch it and play with it. Make it come."

Merle heartily wished he was lying down with Jacqui leaning over him as she had once, he'd been able to look up in the half light of the torch he'd left on. She had glimmered, all fresh, wet, pink skin. Fresh on the inside, like an oyster he'd shucked once.

Her clit, like a pearl, round and glistening, protected by all the soft surrounds.

But, she'd only allowed that once and Merle would be fucked if he'd beg for that. It would take a fucking warrior queen for him to beg and Jacqui wasn't that in anyfuckingway. Fuck if he ever got a warrior queen, he'd roll over and offer his own fucking ass for them to play with. And he'd fucking like it. Snorting now, Merle shook his head. Like that would ever fucking happen.

So, pinching her clit lightly, Merle strokes back up her thigh and makes sure his condom is on properly. Pulling his fingers out of her ass, he guides himself in by touch. Aiming as best he can, he spits again, smears her hole and then his cock and presses inside.

"That's it, nice and hot in here sugar. You been thinkin' about me fucking you already today have you?" Stopping, Merle bottoms out and for an instant, just an instant, he strokes his hands over Jacqui's back.

Stopping when she moves under his touch uncomfortably, he shakes off his mood. "Oh, now I got an idea sugar, you ain't gonna like it though. But you know what? Merle feels like playin' today." So saying he opens his baggie and sprinkles some meth on Jacqui's ass.

She tries to turn under him, but he shoves her head down. "No noises now." He orders, "Don't want people to know you're fucking a redneck do you?" She subsides as he knew she would.

Women were so fucking predictable.

Spitting again, Merle mixes the meth on Jacqui's hole and then his thumb pushes it inside. "Bet your God don't like this when you get to heaven sugar, bet he don't like it at all." He laughs now. Quietly though.

As if finally realising what he was doing, Jacqui starts to rise, just as a knock comes on the door.

"Dixon, you ever gonna finish taking a dump?" Morales asks him.

"When I stop gettin' interrupted coffee bean." Merle shouts back.

He continues pushing the meth inside Jacqui's ass and then shoves his cock back inside too.

"No, that won't work." He realises. Pulling out again, he tears off the condom and then spits into his palm and wets his cock. "Fuck." He mutters as he pushes back inside Jacqui's ass.

"Oh yeah, sugar you sure are hot." He says now. Hands gripping her generous hips as he slams inside hard and fast. Deliberately smearing the meth inside her, getting her worked up.

Stilling, Merle curls his hips as he feels an extra warmth start to spread out from his cock. "Fuck that feels weird." He says now.

His hands stroke over Jacqui's back and around her front. Palming her breasts, Merle tugs on her nipples through her blouse and bra. Playing there for a few minutes, he lets the drug work.

When he feels Jacqui begin to writhe on his cock, he grins. "Oh yeah sugar, feelin' it now ain't you?" He questions as he starts to roll his hips, feeling Jacqui rock on him in counterpoint. "Oh you do like it don't you? They got a name for it you know? Mostly gays, but I figured you'd be into it, so fuckin' masculine, I bet you wish you was a fuckin' guy."

Another bang on the door pulls Merle out of his self-induced drug haze. "Hurry the fuck up Dixon." Morales again.

"Yeah yeah." Merle calls back. But he takes heed.

Grabbing Jacqui's hips tightly, Merle begins to fuck her, hard and merciless. "You want to come, come before me sugar, I ain't waitin' on you today." He's cruising on the drug, wants to continue to do so up on the roof on his own, take out some walkers. He has a need.

Feeling Jacqui's hand move underneath her body, Merle feels her clench down on him as she works herself toward an orgasm. "Harder." She speaks and Merle ignores her for once, high on his own immortality.

Simply snorting in laughter, Merle continues taking her, chasing his own orgasm. Relentlessly fucking her, stroking in and out. Feeling her clinging to him as he pulled out, trying to keep him inside. The day a pussy or ass kept him would be the day he rolled over and gave his own up. Maybe to his non-existent warrior queen.

Laughing, Merle closed his eyes and his ears to everything but his own impending release, pushing for it, wanting and needing it before his high wore off.

Merle felt his balls draw up and erupt. Shoving through his release, he moaned softly as he felt his come explode into Jacqui's ass channel.

"Shit, I needed that." He said softly, to himself now. He was set, good fuck, good high. He could take on anything.

Pulling out, he ignored Jacqui's soft curse as she jerked her arm to finish herself off. "Bastard." She swore at him.

Laughing a little, Merle reached around her, turned on the water and wet another paper towel. Wiping himself, he cleaned Jacqui's ass off his cock and hands.

"Hope you were clean sugar. I don't need to be catchin' anythin' from you. Only thing I an't caught is the permanent shit." He laughed again as she froze, mid-move of her hand.

"Don't worry, I'm clean now, have been for a while." But he knew, and the thought made him grin like a loon, he knew he'd stopped her orgasm in its track.

Throwing the towel on the floor, he did himself up and reached around, grabbing his rifle. "Be seein' you in the daylight then sugar."

Unlocking the door, Merle left it open behind him as he made for the stairs to the roof. He knew that today he'd burned his bridge with Jacqui. And he was okay with that, because he'd ended it his way. The Merle Dixon way.

* * *

_A/N – Told you it was kinky. And for those who are thinking of Michonne being the warrior queen, she may be, she may not be. But Merle did tell me as I wrote that, that he would indeed roll over for his warrior queen if she did present herself. I have an idea for her. Dirty, filthy, kinky. Merle is on board so far, hopefully he stays that way. Not too many to go now._


	10. Merle & Karen

_A/N – Merle and Karen, S3 at Woodbury. And they played a little different to how I originally intended. I checked Karen's character profile on Wikipedia, Noah wasn't her son. And I've played on the fact that Merle and Tyrese's characters are of a physical type, not a mental type, just physical. And thus Karen has a 'type' if you will. Enjoy._

* * *

Merle watched her settle into Woodbury. She was an interesting woman. Dark curly hair, lithe body. No real attitude to speak of, but something about her intrigued him anyway.

He watched her as she blew off the Governor. Maybe that was why. He'd tried for her and failed and the Governor had moved on to the one he got to do his fucking PR without any issue.

Stupid, fucking stupid. He'd take personality over vacuous any fucking day. Unless vacuous sucked like a vacuum. Snorting, Merle laughed at his own joke.

"Something funny?" She had turned back toward him.

"Nah, inside joke." He grinned toothily down at her, expecting her to step away. Most women avoided him like the plague. But she didn't move.

Instead she stepped forward. "You be wantin' something sugar?" He asked, loosing another toothy smile on her.

"I want lots of things Merle, good pair of boots, nice book I haven't already read a million times over, decent blanket to ward off the cold, or better yet a nice strong body to share it all with." She said it all to him matter-of-factly as she turned and walked with him.

"I'll keep an eye out for some boots for you." He says as he looks at her feet, deliberately ignoring the rest of her words.

"And that nice strapping man too?" She blinked up at him and wiggled her eyebrows when he looked silently down at her.

"Sure thing sugar." He said, flirt dropping off him like he'd shrugged his shoulders to get rid of a cloak he was wearing.

"Karen. My name's Karen Merle, I know you know it, why won't you say it?" A faint hint of irritation colours her tone as she stops now and just stares up at him.

"Oh you know, if I call y'all sugar or darlin' I don't gotta remember the name of whoever I roll off of in the middle of the night now do I?" He cursed himself as he told her the truth.

Merle had taken another half-dozen steps before he realised Karen had stopped. Her brown eyes were staring at him flatly. Her arms crossed under her breasts, pushing them up, giving her the illusion of cleavage she didn't really have.

Raising an eyebrow at her, he waited for the tirade he was sure would come. Instead she asked him a question. "How old are you Merle?" She moved forward slowly and stopped a couple of steps from him.

"Ain't gonna see…forty-five again shall we say?" He gave her a hint, let her know he wasn't a spring chicken that mostly got rid of a lot of women looking for a man to save them these days. Not that he himself had experience with that sort of shit, but poor dumb fucking Shumpert though? Fuck, he got propositioned every other day.

"Never been married, had a long-term relationship or anything have you? With a woman I mean, family doesn't count."

"Well, if you're bein' specific I guess not." Merle answered her laconically even as his mind worked at warp speed trying to see where the fuck she was heading.

"Uh huh. Okay, I guess then yeah. Sugar and darling are okay to use. Shame though, I think we could have maybe had something." Karen smiled at him and then looked over his shoulder, called out to some dumb fuckwit and strode away.

##########

Could they have had something? Merle pondered on it over the next few weeks. He watched her move around the town, she had balls for a woman but she was quiet about it. Did her job, didn't shirk any shit duties she was given. And she bonded with the asthmatic kid, took him in.

Karen – and when the fuck did he start thinking of her by name – was nothing like that fucking blonde cunt back at the quarry. That bitch had strutted around like a bitch in heat. Only difference being she wanting to fuck someone, not be fucked.

Now she epitomized penis envy that one. Karen though? She was different. And so one night, after his wall shift had ended, Merle went back to his apartment and took a shower. He threw on some clothes, stamped his feet into his boots and left the laces undone. Then, grabbing up the sack he'd put on a seat, he took off again.

Huffing and calling himself a fuckwit of epic proportions, Merle knocked quietly on the bedroom window in the small house he knew Karen and the kid lived in.

When a candle came to life, he stepped back, trampling the flowers she'd planted a week or so ago. Shit, that was going to piss her off.

"What the hell are you doing?" She asked him as she pushed the window up.

"Didn't wanna wake your boy." Merle answered her truthfully.

"Couldn't wait until morning Merle?" She asked now as she jerked her head toward the front door.

Merle stepped back some more and bent quickly, shoving the plants back into the ground haphazardly before he moved to the front door, wiping his hands on his pants as Karen opens it.

"Got you somethin'." He says as he shoves the sack into her arms.

Turning, Merle sits down on the steps of Karen's house and listens to her pulling out her present. "Holy God, these are… wow, thank you Merle." She says quietly as she sits down beside him.

Merle jerks a little when her warm lips buss his jaw, her slender forearm resting up his shoulder as she leans in to do so. For an infinitesimal moment, Merle leans back.

Remembering himself, he sits upright and while Karen moves her lips away, she keeps her forearm there, on his shoulder as she looks down at the boots Merle had searched high and low for.

"Spare laces too? Fantastic." She says as she shoves them into one of the boots. "Thank you, thank you so much."

"Yeah well, fuck knows what'll happen, best to be ready for the worst by havin' good footwear." Merle mutters as he feels the tips of his hears begin to burn. Fuck, he was glad it was night. He hadn't blushed like a fucking schoolgirl since before his mama had up and burned herself to death.

Dixon's didn't fucking blush.

Shifting uncomfortably, Merle went to rise, but Karen's forearm pushed and he stayed down. "Do you think something is going down?" Karen asked him quietly.

"Nothin' in particular. But this world, the way it is now? It could all go in the blink of a fuckin' eye Karen, best to be prepared for anything. If it don't happen that's a win." Merle spoke plainly to her.

He could see the way the town was moving. While he thought democracy was overrated, especially in the world they existed in now, that didn't mean he wanted a dictatorship either. Or worse, a fucking dystopian society. That shit never ended well.

And though he'd never admit it, Merle was getting sick of killing and fighting. His body count was up to double digits now. He didn't want to make it more. Mentally shaking himself, he goes to rise again, but Karen stops him once more, this time with her other hand as she pulls his face around to her.

Their lips meet. Her kiss is sweet, gentle and tender. Nothing like he himself is. Clenching his hands into one giant fist where he's holding them between his knees, Merle forces himself not to give in to his base urge.

Because that's what it was, what he was. Base, Instinct. He ran on nothing but instinct. See, want, take. Instinct. And feral instinct at that.

"Merle." Karen pulls back on a smile. "You can kiss me back you know, I've wanted you to for a while." She smiles at him again, but Merle doesn't return it.

"No, I can't. I'm not gentle Karen. I'd hurt you." Merle surges to his feet and walks away ignoring Karen's soft calls.

##########

A few days later Merle finishes his shift and comes home to a covered bowl outside his front door. When he lifts the cloth, the still warm fragrance of a lovely looking juicy stew wafts up to him.

Moaning appreciatively, Merle scoops a finger though it and sucks on the juice. It tastes even better than it looks.

He drops the bowl and cloth back, clean and empty in the morning before Karen or Noah are up and around.

The next thing is a bowl of macaroni and cheese. Boxed yes. But Karen had added fresh vegetables to it and some goats cheese from their fresh animals. He knew she'd been put on barnyard duty, stood to reason she'd get the pickings of the dairy stuff. It was divine.

After he drops that bowl back, the next gift to appear is some fresh-baked bread. Still warm when he bit into it and a tiny knob of butter.

The piece de résistance though was the cherry cobbler with the fresh custard. Merle didn't even want to know how she'd managed it, but she had and it melted in his mouth.

After a single bite, he puts it down. Going into his bathroom, he takes a shower and shaves and dresses in some clean clothes. Then he takes up the cobbler and makes the journey to Karen's.

Calling himself all sorts of a fool, he knocks on her door. Noah opens it and grins at him with the dish. "Hey Mister Dixon, it's nice isn't it?" Merle nods.

"It is, is the lady of the house in?" He asks as he follows Noah's gesture and steps inside.

"Sure is, Karen!" Noah turns and shouts down the hallway, deafening Merle in the process.

"For an asthmatic kid you've got a set of lungs on you." He says and Noah turns to him.

"Yeah, I used to swim, it was good for lung capacity. Don't know how I'll be now." Merle watches him withdraw and puts a hand on his shoulder, shoves him a little and laughs.

"Kid, you'll be fine, you got Karen, this town, we ain't gonna let anything happen you hear?" He does something he'd never done to another soul other than his brother and grips the back of his neck and shakes him affectionately.

"You should run, ain't the same but it'd help." He says as Noah looks up at him.

"Yeah?" Noah asks him now. "Around the town and stuff?"

Merle nods. "Yeah, around the town. Bein' fit will give you an edge and we need all the fuckin' edges we can get these days." His curse rolls of his tongue without thought and Noah's eyes widen.

"Uh, shit, uh…" Trying to backpedal Merle hears a faint laugh.

"I don't think you can dig yourself out of it Merle." Karen says as she stands in the hallway in a long, over-sized shirt that she'd been sleeping in when Merle had interrupted her to give her her boots.

"Maybe, what if I promise to be the warm body? Will that help me?" He asked as he cocked a brow at Karen and eyed her lasciviously in a very obvious way making Noah gag.

"Yuck, I'm going to bed. Please don't wake me." He begged as he turned and walked past Karen to his bedroom and shut his door soundly.

Merle looked at Karen and then down at the cobbler still in his hands. "Thank you, I've always loved cherries." He motioned with the cobbler. "How did you mange the custard?" He asked now.

"Well, cleaning up after the animals means I get to take what dairy I need." Karen shrugged. "I like animals better than I like people most days."

It's a blunt statement from her. One Merle never thought he'd hear. "I thought you liked being around people?" He questioned as he stepped forward and placed the dish on the table before he continued forward to stand in front of Karen.

"Not if I can help it, trouble is I don't really have a choice these days. Being around people equals survival." Karen says to him as she tilts her head, gaze meeting Merle's head on. "So the way to your heart Merle Dixon is through your stomach?" She teased lightly as her hands slide up Merle's arms.

"No." Merle's hand fists in Karen's hair. "I got an itch I think you can scratch." He kisses her before she can say anything, figures she'll toss him out for being so crude, it's his pathetic last-ditch effort to scare her off. He knows that if he has her, he won't give her up. She'd be stuck with him, because he didn't share.

Pulling back, Merle sees Karen look up at him. Her eyes roving his face. "You shaved for me." She says eventually as a fey smile crosses slowly over her face.

"Ah.." She cuts him off before he can say anything else.

"I don't share Merle, if you come into my bedroom tonight and be with me, you don't get to go out and be with another woman. Not unless we discuss it and decide we don't want to be together anymore. I'm not dancing around this with you. I deserve more."

And that was the fucking crux of it. She did deserve more. More than him. But Merle was too selfish to step back. "I got it sugar." He says as he leans down and slides his prosthetic around Karen's waist, pulling her up to him with his sheer brute strength.

His mouth opens on Karen's and he eats her, his teeth nipping at her lips, sucking her tongue into his mouth so he can nibble on it too. He eats her mouth as he plans to eat her pussy. With lustful enjoyment. "Gonna fuck you Karen, fuck you good. You're gonna feel me tomorrow." He says to her in a dirty whisper as he pulls back.

"Thank God. I thought you'd never change your mind." Karen said to him as she leaned up and took Merle's earlobe between her teeth and tugged on it making his balls ache.

"You been courtin' me woman?" Woman was new, not sugar or darlin', but woman, because she was his woman now.

"Maybe?" She pulls back again and licks her lips with another of those smiles.

Rolling his eyes at the thought that he, fucking Merle Dixon had been courted, Merle pulls Karen back up and his left hand hitches her legs around his waist as he walks them to her bedroom.

Kicking the door shut behind them, Merle just falls on the bed, his elbows bracing himself so he doesn't crush Karen under his weight.

"Hmm, I like your size, makes me feel good, like you could break me." Karen murmurs as she runs her hands up and down Merle's biceps.

"You like big?" He questions her as he pulls back.

"I do." Karen smiles at him again and Merle finds himself rolling his eyes. He felt like he should beat his chest or something.

"Gonna be the death of me." He mutters as he leans down and takes her mouth again. Lazy and slow this time, his tongue twining with hers as he gets to know her and how she kisses, learns her mouth.

They kiss for ages, his cock hard and throbbing but ignored, just like the warmth he can feel between Karen's spread legs is ignored as well.

Eventually, Merle kisses down her neck, letting Karen's nimble fingers open her blouse and unhook the front clasp on her bra, her breasts spilling out for him in their erect, brown-tipped beauty.

"Nice." Merle breathes as his mouth closes over the tip of one and he sucks strongly.

"Ha, uh, thank you." Karen whispers brokenly as Merle's other hand rolls her other nipple. Merle assaults her senses in every way.

He wants, needs to make this good for Karen. The best thing that's happened to him in too long to remember. Karen made him feel good, about life. And about himself.

She made him feel clean. Merle was beginning to think she could just make him.

Moving his hips slowly, Merle kicked his boots off and then worked his hips back and forth, his hard cock thrusting slowly against Karen's body intimately as he dry fucked her, arousing her, making her mindless.

"Jesus, Merle." She said after a time, her legs wound around his hips, her heels digging into his butt cheeks.

"Hmm?" Merle answered her absently as he pulled back and looked down at her breasts. Karen's nipples were dark brown now, hard swollen nubs, sensitive too Merle noticed when he breathed over one of them and Karen squirmed.

"Inside me, I need you inside me." Karen says to him as her hands push and pull at their clothes as much as she can with Merle helping her very little, not wanting to get go of her.

He lets her manhandle him though as he's let no other person, not even his family when he'd been drunk and high.

Eventually, Merle is naked and on his back. Karen crouching over him. He watches as she leans back, bares herself and spreads her legs. Eyes her appreciatively. She was going to be his, his hope. His salvation.

Sliding her hands over his right arm gently, Merle watches as Karen unbuckles his prosthetic. He watches as she slowly pulls it off and then reaches over him to place it carefully on the bedside table.

Then she surprises the fuck out of him by bringing back some lotion with her and uncapping it to squeeze some onto his arm.

Massaging his arm, from his shoulder to his stump, including the burned flesh, she focuses on what she's doing as Merle watches her.

"Why me?" He asked her finally.

Karen stopped and leaned over him again to put the lotion back, then she knelt beside him on the bed and looked at him, a hand reaching out and stroking over his jaw, over his brows, gently over his eyelashes.

"Your eyes, you've got an old soul. Wounded, battle-scared, but not beaten." She says finally.

Merle doesn't pretend to misunderstand her. "I've done stupid fuckin' shit, still doin' it." He says. Wanting to make sure she knew what she was getting into.

"Me too." She answers him simply. "What do you say we do it together from now on?" And without giving him a chance to answer, she turned and straddled his face, her mouth opening on his cock and taking him in.

Groaning, Merle let her swallow him and set up a rhythm as he stared up her. Her pussy hair was dark brown and curly, flattened now from being pressed against her panties all day. One hole winked at him and the other opened and flexed, fluid dripped from it, slowly moving down Karen's thighs.

Evidence she'd liked what they'd been doing. Evidence she liked Merle. Stroking his left hand up her thigh, taking the juices, Merle brings them to his mouth and inhales her scent.

Woman, she was woman. Female, ripe. His. Groaning again, he leaned up and licked a broad stripe over all of her. His tongue stabbed over her clit, swam through her pussy and laved her wrinkled hole.

"Jesus!" Karen pulled away from Merle's cock as she spoke and then began to go down on him again. Merle felt her licking and sucking on him her tongue swiping around his head, stabbing in his slit, sucking out his pre-come.

His own mouth went to work as he licked and sucked at Karen, his tongue circling her clit, his teeth nipping at her pussy lips making her jerk just a little. His left hand came up and he spread her a little. Looking up, Merle glanced at his stump and then he rubbed the rough end over Karen's clit.

"Merle!" She pulled off, gasping his name now making him chuckle.

"You rang?" He asked her as he laughed a little.

"That was…dirty." Karen said as she sat up and moved down the bed to turn around and look at Merle. She sat on his cock, trapping him in her warmth though he wasn't inside her yet. "And I mean dirty in the best possible way." She clarified before Merle could say anything and he grinned lightning fast at her.

"Yeah? You want me to fuck you with it?" He pushed his stump into her hip a little, letting her feel him even as his left hand spread over her curls, middle finger seeking her clit to tease.

"Maybe." Karen sat back, kneeled up and took his cock in her hand. "Right now, I want to fuck the traditional way." So saying, she looked him straight in the eyes and then sank down on his cock.

"You go right ahead." Merle said as he felt himself encased in her warmth. She was wet, he knew that already. She was also tight, clamping down on his cock like a vise. Letting his eyes close, Merle revelled in her heated warmth as Karen chased away his demons.

His toes curled as Karen rose up and then sank down again. Keeping still, Merle allowed Karen control, something he'd never given over to another woman in his life. Evidence enough that Karen was different.

Resting his arms on Karen's thighs, Merle lets her set the pace, slow and languid. He watches her move on him, her skin tanned and unblemished in the low light of the lantern she'd left on the bedside table for when the electricity was shut off.

Sliding his left hand up, Merle's thumb brushes a nipple and then the other. Rubbing them, one at a time, pinching them lightly, he teases them as Karen fucks his cock. His thighs are trembling with the effort of staying still, of giving up his control to her.

But he won't do it, this first time should be hers. Arching his back, letting his neck fall back, Merle bares himself to Karen vulnerably. He feels a sudden movement and before he can move, Karen is kissing his neck, licking and sucking at him before she sits back, her teeth scraping over his neck harshly as she lets go.

Then she braces her palms flat on his chest, her fingers digging into his greying chest hair and her middle fingers brushing his nipples before her nail's are scraping them tantalizingly.

"Gonna come." Merle says in a breathy whisper. Shit, was that his voice? That whining sound? "Fuck." He said now, trying to sound manly and failing horribly.

"We are. Touch me." Karen asks, breathless herself as she moves a hand to her clit, fingers circling over it lightly.

Moving his left hand there too, Merle rubs Karen as she does. Their fingers tangling together as Merle watches her move over him. He can feel his balls drawing up and lets his orgasm roll forward.

Arching his back again, he feels Karen jerk around him as she begins to come. Her spasm's bring on his own orgasm and his balls empty into her welcoming depths. Pushing his hips up into Karen, Merle moves until he is drained.

Even then, he stays pushed up inside Karen until he is so soft that when she takes a breath in, he drops away out of her body with a moaned protest. Watching, he sees Karen push her fingers inside herself and then put them in her mouth.

Watching as she licked his come from her fingers, Merle shook his head. "Dirty in the best possible way woman." He returned her earlier words.

"Woman? Do you call anyone else woman?" Karen cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Nope." Merle rolled on his side and pulled Karen down to face him as he threw an arm over her waist. They were sharing her pillow, noses almost touching now.

"Okay then, you can call me woman." Karen said to him as she leaned forward and kissed his nose.

"Yeah yeah." Merle grumbled as he tried not to be pleased by the fucking almost Eskimo kiss.

##########

The next morning as he's eating leftover cherry cobbler for breakfast with Noah, a thunderous noise races overhead.

Out the door with Noah on his heels, Merle just stares at the helicopter as it flies overhead.

"Too low, they're in trouble." He says. "Tell Karen I'll be by later." He throws over his shoulder at Noah as he takes off at a dead run.


	11. Merle, Maggie & Michonne Pt1

_A/N – I've been dropping comments about Merle and a 'warrior queen'. When I've done that I've not had anyone in particular in mind. A lot of you assume Michonne for obvious reasons and because I've written them before. I have a hazy memory that Merle has referred to her has his warrior queen – Nubian Queen in the show most definitely – but in my earlier writing I think he has too. Someone who reviewed chapter nine made the point that they wanted Beth to be the warrior queen (negating the fact that I've already written her chapter) because Merle was 'too damn racist to roll over for a black chick'. _

_Through all of this, I've been personally hesitant to do Maggie, simply because I loved the Merle and Maggie chapter I did in __**Walking Dead Hook-Ups**__. _

_So, Merle kindly took me aside and whispered in my ear. From that little whisper, the resulting story has been born. I give you, Merle, Maggie and Michonne. Merle and his Warrior Queens. _

_My last character's of__** Merle's Women**__. Multiple POV's and, at the present stage two to three chapters, depending on how Merle decides to go._

* * *

"You're not goin' after him?" Maggie stared at Rick in shock.

"No, he made his choice." Rick's tone is firm, he won't look her in the eye.

"Yeah, Merle did and I get that, but Daryl, you won't go after Daryl? You are a pussy Rick Grimes." Maggie seethes as she turns away.

She seethes as she grabs at weapons and shakes her head tersely at Glenn. He sighs and arms himself as well.

"You do realise we're going to save Merle Dixon Mag's?" He asks her as they drive silently.

"Don't matter, Daryl is who I'm goin' after. There's Michonne." Maggie spoke as she gestured ahead.

Michonne got in the back seat and directed them. She said nothing else. They catch up to Daryl and he gets in as well, Maggie passes him some water and he drinks slowly.

He directs them to a turn-off and from there they proceed on foot. Maggie didn't even hesitate to get out of the vehicle, Daryl was family. She might not be able to stand Merle but for Daryl she'd learn. If he survived.

Daryl and Glenn are caught up in the fighting immediately. Maggie hangs back, skirts the edges, taking care of the already dead as she watches Michonne in action. The woman was lethal. A warrior.

Words, human words distract her and she heads in that direction. Her handgun is out and in her hand, safety off, her footsteps are silent and she is short enough that she doesn't need to crouch to pass under the windows.

A fight is going on inside. An inhuman growl sounds and she steps to the door in time to hear Merle Dixon speak.

"I ain't gonna beg, you'll never make me beg." Maggie snorts silently to herself, she knew damn well any _woman_ could make a man beg. But this wasn't the time or the place.

She watched the governor cock his weapon and she holstered her own silently as she took out her knife instead.

As if he was a walker, Maggie grabbed the back of his hair and shoved the knife with all her hatred boiling up inside her. Adrenalin, loathing, fear and sheer terror gave her the needed strength. Practically going en pointe to get the added height she needed, Maggie pierced the back of his skull, her knife severing the governor's brain stem and making him drop like a sack of potatoes. Exactly like a Walker would have.

"Think you can threaten to rape me and get away with it motherfucker?" She questioned snidely as she stepped over his corpse like the waste it was.

"Get up, 'm not touchin' you and you cause one iota of trouble back home and I'll be dealin' to you exactly like him you got that Merle Dixon?" She questioned Merle ferociously, knife in her hand dripping blood onto the busted floorboards of the shed as she did so.

"Yes ma'am, I surely do." Merle slurred at her as he tried to wink. "Fuck that was hot, you're wasted on your chink." He mutters as he forces himself to stand

"There's more than one kind of hunter Dixon, you should know that." Maggie says to him as she gives in and helps him to his feet.

At least Merle Dixon didn't make her skin crawl, not anymore anyway. They stop at the governor. Merle makes her strip him of weapons which Maggie does with reluctance.

Then they head outside.

##########

Michonne lets Merle rest on her shoulder, he'd been beaten good by the governor. She doesn't listen to Glenn and Maggie as they talk in the front seat, or Daryl's odd contribution to the conversation. She's debating with herself as to whether she'll stay or go.

She wants to go, more than anything, she wants to leave the prison and its inhabitants and never look back. She'd survive and survive well.

And that's why she decides to stay. Because surviving wasn't enough anymore. She wanted more after Andrea, she needed more. She needed family.

When they get back, she ignores Rick for the time being, they'll settle later. She lets Merle lean on her again and with Daryl she gets him inside and onto a cot. She helps Herschel tend him, holds him down when Herschel sets his fingers.

Nods when Herschel says he'll be lucky if he doesn't lose them.

Only when Merle is clean, tended and sleeping does she tend to herself. Weapons first, cleaned, oiled and re-sheathed. Now her body. She follows Daryl to the showers and they strip and scrub themselves in silence

"You and he had some sort of bondin' experience?" Daryl asks though Michonne thinks he knows the answer is yes.

"Yeah." She answers him, though she doesn't know why.

"He likes you. More, he respects you, if anyone can keep him in line here it'll be you, don't abuse that though. You won't like what he becomes." Michonne stops and stares at Daryl, not having a clue what he's talking about.

Before she can question him, he's dressed and out the door, hair still dripping.

##########

He hurt. He hurt everywhere. His bones felt brittle, as if rolling over in bed would make them break like twigs. He knew time was passing, knew he'd been beaten and he knew that Phillip was dead. He remembered who had killed him. She'd been a warrior.

Someone read to him at night, a woman. She sounded different sometimes, but mostly she had a quiet, intense voice. Her drawl thicker than other times.

And the bible thumper, read the bible of course. Merle didn't have the strength to tell him he knew the fucking book back and front.

Time passed in a haze of pain, broth, water and smells. He couldn't see too well at the moment so he was relying on all his other senses.

It was through sound that he realised two women were reading to him, a different one each night. One with a soft Georgie cadence in her voice, the other not so soft, deeper, more…earthy.

Merle drifts on the pain, surfing it like he'd always wanted to learn to surf a wave.

More time passes.

##########

Winter had arrived by the time Merle was up and around. He was still recovering, but he had his eyesight back, and he'd kept his fingers through Herschel and Michonne's diligence. He is walking the yard, exercising as per Herschel's orders one day when Maggie drops in beside him silently.

She doesn't say anything, just walks with him. It becomes a habit. But even so, winter has passed and spring arrived before she starts to speak to him. Her first words a shock for the fact that she spoke, but not a shock about what she opens their conversation with.

"You owe me and Glenn an apology." She says no more, Merle doesn't speak as he concentrates on stretching out his legs and making sure to exercise his sciatic nerve as it had been acting up.

"Guess so, maybe I'll get to it one day." He says laconically. Maggie snorts and after her usual laps at his side she peels off and is on her way.

Merle thinks on it for several weeks and spring has given way to summer again by the time he decides an apology is in fact in order.

Still though, more time has passed before Merle judges that the time is right. Glenn has returned from a run and is now back from the showers. Merle knocks on the office door he and Maggie use as their living quarters.

Glenn never speaks to him directly. He opens the door and blinks before he jerks his head in an acknowledgement to speak. "Sorry Chinaman. You got me riled up, not saying where Daryl was, but that ain't an excuse. Just sayin' there was a reason. Still sorry, I never thought he'd even think anythin' like that against your girl. Sorry." Merle says no more and doesn't wait for a reply.

A few days later, Maggie is just about to leave him after her few laps around the yard when Merle touches her forearm with his left hand, fingers grasping a little too tightly as he's lost sensation. When Maggie flinches, Merle steps back, both hands raising in surrender. "Whoa, sorry girl. Just wanted to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He knows he doesn't need to explain to Maggie, Glenn will have no doubt already told her he'd apologised.

Maggie nodded at him and kept walking for an extra lap. She mentions Beth and Zach in passing and Merle realises it's her way of saying he's stepped up in her estimation. Not forgiven per say, but he's maybe a little higher than a snake these days.

He doesn't even try to figure out why the fuck it matters what she thinks of him.

##########

Michonne is different, they'd made their peace before his confrontation with Phillip. She'd read to him along with Maggie and unlike Maggie, Michonne spoke to him and continued to read to him after Merle realised he needed reading glasses and they hadn't yet managed to hit an Optometrists store on any of their runs.

It was weird the places they needed to hit to get up a good stockpile of things. With industry having ground to a halt, they really needed to stockpile all sorts of shit. Glasses being something few people thought of but lots of people ended up needing.

Shaking his head one day several months later, Merle idly watches Maggie and Beth take fence duty and talk. Looked like the little one was trying to convince her older sister of something. He watched idly, chewing on a piece of hay as he worked and kept an eye on them out of the corner of his eye. They were working the fence that had been breached last week, he wasn't yet convinced that it had been repaired properly. He didn't get a say in shit like that. But he knew Michonne agreed with him and that she'd mention it to the right people.

She had said no to a seat on the council which Merle could appreciate, she was too much of a lone wolverine, like he was really. Shaking his head he watched the sister's argue as they finished their duty and kept to himself.

A couple of days later he looks up as shapely hips encased in sturdy brown suede sit down in front of him at meal time. He felt Daryl's start of surprise as he looked up to see emerald eyes peering seriously at him. "You wanna make it up to me?" Maggie asks him simply.

Merle chews silently as he forks up more food. He was thankful most people serving were kind enough to cut up his meat without making a big deal of it now. He was too damn tired these days to act as if he had two arms anymore. He didn't and that was a fact he had to learn to live with and compensate for properly. Cutting up meat wasn't one of those ways if he could help it.

"Well that depends on what you'd be wantin' me to do for you sugar." He drawled, unable to help himself. Why should he? It was a question that just oozed to be given a sexual answer.

Maggie surprised him though by just rolling her eyes. Guess he'd have to try harder. But she spoke before he could try. "Mind outta' the gutter Dixon." She frowned as she looked over at her baby sister who was feeding the cops brat of a child. Not that Merle had anything against kids in general, but he didn't like the cop, never had. Didn't like his cunt of a wife and her snotty way of looking down on people. Plus he'd never liked their fucking stand in, the best friend and bed warming deputy either. Though he'd never pretended to be something he wasn't. Merle kind of respected him for that.

"Beth wants to start makin' runs. I want you to teach her how to survive best. If you say she's good enough then fine. But no one else." She isn't pleading with him, but there is something close to begging in her tone. It makes Merle stop and look at her. Look beyond the even matter-of-fact tone.

"She won't be, ain't got the survival instinct." He returns her matter-of-fact tone, ignores Daryl's hiss of anger beside him. "I'm right little brother and you fuckin' know it, first time out she'll be zombie meat." He finishes firmly and looks back at Maggie. She agrees with him, he can tell.

But, "It's why I want you to do it. Daddy agrees." And that nailed Merle's objections back into his throat. Her old man, more than Maggie, Merle felt he owed Herschel. Man had saved his life, saved Daryl's life, saved his sanity too, not that he'd be telling people that.

"Fuck." Its acquiescence. He knows it and Maggie knows it. But again she surprises him by not gloating. Instead she looks sorrowful. And Merle gets it. "You want her to fail?" He's incredulous in a way, but he shouldn't be. He's seen the way Maggie protects her family.

Not answering him, Maggie stands. "I'll tell her to find you, you be as hard as you need you hear me Merle Dixon? She needs to know what it's really like out there, us sayin' it don't make it enter her head properly." She says the last sentence wearily and Merle just nods.

Well, fuck. "Tell her to come with…what's that kids name? Uh, four-eyed kid, P-somethin? He was askin' me the other day. Be good for them to spar with each other." He says as he stands himself. "Part payment, take my plate back for me, I gotta piss." He ignores Maggie's second eye-roll as she scoops up his plate and takes it back to the kitchen.

That night in bed, Merle thinks of how the hell he's gonna teach two greenhorns to fight to survive. He wondered if the survival instinct he mentioned could be taught. And he realised that while Maggie didn't think it could be - was in fact banking on him failing with Beth – that he wanted more than anything to prove her wrong, prove to her he could do something, something worthwhile. And ensure that Beth did indeed have or learn the survival instinct and the other one…Patrick. That was it, Patrick.

"Shit." He muttered as he rolled over in his bunk. "So fuckin' stupid." Huffing, Merle willed himself to sleep.

##########

Days turn into weeks as Merle works with Beth and Patrick. He is diligent, making them work on their cardio strength so they can run miles if they need to, just as he has needed to in order to survive. But the most important thing, is teaching them to survive other humans.

"They're worse than the fuckin' zombies." He's past caring if Beth flinches at his swearing, she's getting used to it, doesn't cry anymore when he bawls her out for being sloppy, erratic and uncoordinated. Patrick surprised the hell out of him by being the complete opposite.

But he'd had a harder time with putting a zombie down. Despite her frail appearance, Beth had no qualms about putting a zombie down permanently at all which Merle was grateful for. Other's had tried to take lessons as well. So many in fact the council had asked him to take on a regular group, every other day. Beth and Patrick were different though.

They garnered an audience sometimes. Herschel, Maggie, Daryl, Glenn. But Michonne was the most frequent one. And she helped. She or Merle ganging up on them sometimes, making them both work for it. And Merle would be lying if they weren't actually improving. They were. Both of them. But still, it was inside, behind safe walls. It was different outside.

And that was what they needed now. He pondered how best to approach the subject. Herschel beat him to it, sitting down one night. "They need to go out there Merle, I know it and you know it." He speaks plainly, a hint of fear in his features though his voice is strong. "And as much as it pains me to admit it, they need to go out there without Maggie and Glenn, Rick or even Daryl." He continues. "I've come to like Patrick, he reminds me of my son. I don't want to lose him either. But they need to go out, you need to take them out."

Three days later, he wakes them both and they leave at dawn. They're scouting. Travelling a little ways and looking for game tracks. He makes sure Patrick has a cord wound around the lugs of his glasses so they won't fly off his face and leave him blind. They walk, they watch and Merle doesn't kill one zombie, they take care of each and every single one.

"Human's'll be different, ain't no way I can tell you how different, it's somethin' I hope you never have to figure out, but they are. And some zombies'll be different too." Merle breaks off over their campfire as he says that.

"How?" Beth asks him curiously. She had outgrown her fear of Merle, which he was kind of thankful for.

"Because there's always one that'll get through, into your headspace. Like maybe kids, pregnant women, old people. There'll be a type that'll get to you sooner or later." Merle says.

"Parent's." Patrick's whisper is so low they barely hear him.

"Children." Michonne's answering whisper comes through the night making Merle sigh.

"Wondered when you was gonna show yourself." He said, having caught her on their back trail several hours ago.

"Just letting you go, seeing how they coped with your boorish ass." She returned nonchalantly as she came into the light and sat down beside him. Close beside him.

It was new, their physical intimacy. Something they didn't talk of, it had just happened. She laid down, sword close at hand and rested her head on his thigh making Beth's eyes widen and Patrick's jaw drop. "Wake me when it's my turn." She rolls with her sword so her back is to the fire and closes her eyes as Merle's left hand strokes her dreads back from her face.

"Gonna need to redo 'em soon." He murmurs, ignoring the other two as he strokes her hair, looks at the regrowth.

"I know, hate it though, it's hard as hell to do." He knows, he's seen her struggle to extend them.

"Chop it all off then." He answers her in a low voice again making her laugh.

"Ain't gonna happen, that's worse, still got some vanity, unlike you." She pokes him with the handle of her sword and settles down again as he huffs a laugh.

He sees Beth and Patrick exchange a look and then Patrick grins and settles down. Beth sits up, staring at the fire. Merle is listening to the woods and starts a little when she speaks softly hours later. "My sister wants me to fail, doesn't she?"

"Yeah, but you won't, wasn't sure at first, but you won't." He says no more, doesn't need to. Beth has something in her that he sees in few other people. Something so hidden he knows no one else has even realised it's there. Something that had shocked the ever-loving shit out of Merle when he realised it.

Beth has killer instinct.

Patrick had survival instinct. If they teamed up as he was going to make sure they did, they'd be good together, damn near unstoppable. "You and Patrick make a good team, should stick together outside here, you play to each other's strengths, that's something that's needed out here these days.

"Okay, how do I make sure we do that? He'll probably want to go with Carl or Daryl, he's kinda' got a crush on Daryl." Beth says.

"I'll fix it, you just don't turn him down when he asks to go on runs with you sugar, I'll take care of the rest."

"I won't, I'm not stupid." Patrick surprises them by sitting up. You say we should go out together, I'll go out with Beth. I mean," He stopped with a flush that was visible despite the dying fire making Merle guffaw and Beth giggle and Michonne chuckle so quietly that the other two didn't hear her.

"We get it Superman, we get it." Merle laughed at the look in Patrick's face. "What? It's the glasses." He said making Beth giggle and Michonne look up at him and roll her eyes.

"Just don't call me Lois!" Beth exclaims quickly making Patrick's jaw drop, maybe in disappointment, Merle isn't sure.

"Nah, you're like a fuckin' wraith or something. Silent and deadly, like a weed in a novel I read once. Where once you got caught up in it, it kinda' just killed you. Wouldn't let you go. I remember it slid into this one person's wound, licked up another's come and shit. It was a fuckin' crazy novel." He glanced over to see Beth and Patrick staring at him in shock and horror. "What? It was a fuckin' compliment. Jesus!" He exclaimed in irritation.

"So, like…Patrick is Superman and I'm Weed? Or Wraith?" Beth said with a sarcastic tinge to her voice making Michonne laugh loudly enough for them to hear. She sat up.

"No," Michonne answers as she settles beside Merle and he lies down with his head in her lap now. "Ivy, like poison ivy. If Patrick is Superman or maybe S because it's shorter you're Ivy, like Poison Ivy, she was a villainess in the Batman comics. Gotta keep it in the family." She murmurs and Patrick cackles.

"D.C!" He exclaims as he realises.

"Huh?" Beth asks making he and Michonne laugh again and Merle snicker.

"Battle of the comic book brands. D.C. Comic's versus Marvel. I think I'd like Clark or maybe Kent better than Superman though, one syllable, shorter and shit." Patrick says and then his eyes widen at his cursing.

"Ain't no adult out here who's gonna get on you for cussin' boy." Merle says as he closes his eyes and ears to the discussion as it continues.

When he wakes in the morning, warmth is at his back, sturdy and musky-smelling. Michonne. Some of her dreads are over his neck from where she has buried her face at his back but Merle doesn't mind. Feeling her tense a little, he knows she's awake too. "Guess you're wantin' other's back at the compound to know then?" He asks her quietly as he watches mist travel the ground, slowly dissipating as the sunlight hits it.

"Guess, time do you think?" She asks a little hesitantly making him realise she's as uncertain of him as he is of her in a way.

"Don't guess there's a right time for anything much anymore."

"Mist…I mean Merle, how come you don't say prison?" Patrick interrupted them in a matching quiet voice as he is on watch now.

"Done my time in prison, it weren't pleasant, don't need to be reminded of it again is all." He looked over as he sat up and Michonne stayed down. Patrick looked at him intently and nodded.

Standing, Merle stretched and groaned a little, "I'm getting too damn old." He muttered to himself as he walked toward the trees to take a leak and help his morning hard on subside.

When he returns to camp, Beth is stirring the fire to life and putting some water on to boil. She hands around the dried bars that they'd taken to making for people who went out on runs. They looked fucking disgusting since they combined dried meat as well as fruit and grains, but they did the job without being hassle to carry and they didn't need reheating. Food was nothing but fuel these days.

Sliding a hand up the outside of Michonne's thigh, Merle dug his fingers into her hip to wake her up and she sat up and took a bar from him and a cup of tea from Beth.

They talk aimlessly as they get ready for the day. It is as they're breaking down their camp that they're interrupted by a woman stumbling through the forest into their clearing. "Please, food…" She trailed off as she fell in a graceless pile at their feet.

"Shit." Merle looked over at the kids and then at Michonne who was scanning the surrounds, as was Beth he noted with approval. Patrick glanced around, quartered everything and knelt at her side with a hand on his knife.

"She passed out?" Merle asked him as he took up a water bottle and poured some into a cup.

"Seems so." Patrick took it from her, "She hasn't got any bites that I can see.

The woman stirred then, "No I'm not bitten, I have children." She finished inanely. "I was looking for food and I smelled your fire. I couldn't find it last night."

"You left your children overnight?" This from Michonne as she finally turned to the woman. Something passed over her face and Merle knew she was thinking of her son and that she'd never have left him alone like this woman had.

"Yes, they're not babies and they're safe." This from the woman. He looked at Michonne and she looked back. Then Merle looked to Beth and Patrick,

"Your trip, your call." He says to them. He knows what the council's rules are but ignores them. This was their choice, this was their rite of passage in a way.

We'll go with you to have a look. Now that Beth had realised there was no immediate danger, her mothering instinct took over. She offered the woman a breakfast bar and they broke up their camp quickly. Merle could tell Patrick was unsure, but of what he couldn't tell.

Beth's killer instinct was so deeply buried she registered no danger. But a frown was marring her brow. Merle would bet she was thinking on what kind of woman would leave children, even older ones alone.

When they begin their trek, the woman latches herself onto Beth, seeing her as the youngest. The most frail.

It would be to her detriment.

##########

Michonne sighed as she leaned down and wiped her sword clean on the long gauzy skirt the woman was wearing. She watched at Patrick dry retched even as he looked through the cabin, scavenging for anything useful.

Beth was sitting on the porch, knees drawn up, rocking herself silently as she looked out at the sunny day. Merle sat silently with her, Michonne having gestured for him to follow her out and keep an eye on her.

"Guess this is what Merle was talking about, the killer instinct and stuff." Patrick finally said as he gathered the few things they'd find useful back at the compound. And look at that, she was calling it a compound now too. Shaking her head and then nodding, Michonne agreed.

"It is, don't worry, you both passed. You did good. And Merle is right about you working well together, as a team and keeping each other's back. You both did it instinctually." Michonne said matter-of-factly as she gathered up what Patrick had found and began to distribute it among their packs.

Neither of them look at the dead zombies littering the floor. Three of them of varying ages. The oldest looking to be around maybe twelve. The youngest just a few years old. The woman had tried to feed them to her children.

"Is it wrong to feel good that I'm alive?" Patrick asked her suddenly.

"Absolutely not. But its normal to think it is." Michonne said now. "Perfectly normal. You'll learn unfortunately to take your pleasure when and where you can find it and to let the guilt go. But Patrick?" She stopped and looked over at him, making sure he was listening to her. And he was listening to her attentively, eyes huge behind his glasses, face sweating and flushed from his dry heaving and the general heat of the cabin. "Never, ever let go of your humanity."

He nodded, then looked down and Michonne could see he was processing. Then he nodded again with more certainty. "I won't." He looked up, directly into Michonne's eyes, startling her with their intensity. "Thanks Michonne. You're good for Merle, you make him smile." He flushed suddenly, from the top of his hair and down under his shirt to god knew where.

Chuckling, Michonne shook her head. "Thanks Kent." She said, calling him after Superman's alter ego, or was Superman Clark Kent's alter ego? She pondered as they packed and then walked outside before she decided it was something to discuss with Carl when they returned.

"Let's go, this place reeks." She said as she tossed the Molotov cocktail she'd made back inside the doorway to where they'd spilt the remaining kerosene to burn the place down.

When they're back at the compound, Michonne and Merle find themselves accosted by Maggie, wanting a rundown of how Beth acted, or reacted. "Girl is fine." Was all Merle would say though, irritating Maggie no end.

And so it begins, Beth going on runs, not regular or anything, but she and Patrick are back-up. They both keep their primary occupations in the compound. But they're among the few who don't mind going on runs with Merle, so when his rotation is up, they go too.

But that doesn't always happen. One day months later, as winter chills them all, Patrick and Beth are with another group when they unexpectedly come upon a small herd.

It is a bloody, brutal fight and casualties are suffered.


	12. Merle, Maggie & Michonne Pt2

_1\. I forgot to say last week, the novel Merle spoke of is **The Ruins **by** Scott Smith**. _

_2\. Warning: Major character death in this chapter._

Maggie is on fence duty when she sees the convoy come back, driving fast, too fast for anything but an emergency. Fear grips her and she finds herself running toward the gate. She stands there on tenterhooks as people exit the vehicles. They're all blood spattered, tired and exhausted. And tears streak her sister's cheeks as she comes toward her.

"No." Maggie shakes her head as Beth holds out her arms. "No."

"Maggie…" Beth starts as she looks around and jerks her head at Patrick. He nods and takes off, in a jerking, limping run.

"NO, NO, NO, NO…" Maggie continues to scream the word though she knows, she knows already, deep down inside. Didn't she know when it happened? Didn't she feel that lurching, jerking, sudden absence in her heart when Glenn had been taken? She had, she knew she had. "Where is he?" She screamed now.

"He's in the back." Beth took hold of Maggie when she ran and held her in surprisingly strong arms. She always forgot how strong her sister was. "No, he's not fit for you to see, not right now." She murmurs, holding Maggie's flailing arms as she tries to get free.

And then her father is there, holding her, soothing her. Except she doesn't want to be soothed.

##########

More months pass and Maggie becomes a shadow of her former self. Withdrawn, silent, more deadly than she was before.

It is Merle that she talks to most now.

No one is more surprised by this than Merle himself. And it's not that they talk exactly. More that he rambles about any shit that enters his head and Maggie sometimes answers him. When she'd started to shadow him, he'd thought she was crazy. It was a while before he realised that she knew he didn't expect anything of her.

Plus, he was never going to ask her if she was okay. If there was one thing he didn't do anymore, it was ask superfluous questions.

Even more time passes before she surprises the fuck out of him by kissing him one evening as he sits cleaning the weapons. It's a mindless task that most people hate. Merle is one of the few who enjoys it. Because it is mindless, he can think on other things as he cleans.

How Michonne's skin gleams more than the black metal he's now polishing. How the old, worn wood of this particular handgun's grip is the colour of her eyes.

Soft full lips press on his and Merle blinks.

They're not Michonne's lips. They're…different. Less full, less warm, more pliant.

Drawing back, he looks at Maggie. "Why?" He asked her simply.

"Because." Is all she answers.

"Ain't good enough. And I've got someone." Merle returns as he stands and leaves Maggie among the dismantled weapons he hasn't finished cleaning.

Settling down that night, Maggie's kiss weighs on him. He turns to Michonne to find her watching him quietly. "What's on your mind?" She asked simply.

"Maggie kissed me." Merle says to her.

"Why?" Michonne asked him now.

"Because, all she said." He answers.

"What did you say to that?"

"That it wasn't good enough."

"It's not, I'll talk with her."

Merle frowned. "Why? Ain't like she's gonna do it again." He is puzzled now, his times of sleeping around and contracting sexually transmitted diseases are well and truly over. He's more preoccupied with just surviving these days. With his brother, and now Michonne.

"Maybe." Michonne says quietly. She rolls over and snuggles into his chest, her round ass pressing into his sated cock.

"No maybe, you don't get to say who I fuck. I do and I ain't interested in some fucking mouthy, opinionated girl." He growls in her ear when she murmurs non-committally.

"Fuck this." He rolls out of bed and dresses in irritated silence. It's the first time they've had words harsh enough for him to leave. On the whole they didn't argue which surprised the hell out of most people.

Wandering down the prison hallway, he comes upon Beth and Patrick sparring. They do so quietly, neither holding back. Beth's boyfriend is watching them intently. Beth speaks quietly, talking about moves they're doing, counter blocks and such. It surprises Merle and he stands to watch silently, forgetting he was mad.

When they finish and head off, he returns to his room. Sighing, he lies down, still dressed as he thinks on what Maggie had done. He knew why she'd done it, he knew better than anyone he thought.

"Shit." He muttered as he got up again.

"You going to see her?" Michonne asked him quietly.

"Yeah, no time like the present." Merle muttered. He strode out of his room and down the hallway. Moving through the place he knocked rapidly on Maggie's door. Just as he was about to knock again, it opened and she was staring bleakly at him. "Can't be doing that shit to me again. I got a woman. Understand?" He asked in an irascible tone.

He was sorry he'd used it when he saw Maggie's face close off. Before she could slam the door in his face though, he palmed it and shoved inside. Looking around, he saw the Chink's stuff still around, like he'd be back any second. "Fuck. This shit ain't healthy woman, you got to get rid of it." He turned to stare at Maggie as she stared back.

"How did he die and you lived?" She asked him, her voice cracking on the last word.

"I'm fucked if I know Princess but it happened and I ain't gonna say if I could take his place I would, you know it'd be a fuckin' lie."

"I know. And if I get rid of it, he'll be really gone." Maggie answers his statement about why she still had Glenn's stuff, clothes and belongings lying around like she did.

"Makes sense, ain't true, but it makes sense." Merle said as he sat down. "You ain't gonna be kissin' me again are you? If you ain't I'll help you bag his stuff when you want. Distribute it or take it away so you never have to see it again." He offers not knowing why he's trying to ease her burden. Merle Dixon wasn't made to ease anyone's fucking burden.

"Whatever." Maggie said as she went back to the bed they'd scrounged together and fell face down on it. Merle watched her in the dim light of the single lantern she'd lit. When he heard her breathing deepen, he went to the lantern and turned up the light and then began to gather the man's stuff. Glenn's stuff. He threw the clothes on the chair he'd sat in and the weapons he placed carefully on the table. Other stuff he sorted as well.

##########

Rolling over in bed, Maggie groans a little. It's a groan of grief. These past several mornings, she's woken already knowing Glenn is gone. Before that, she'd wake most mornings reaching for him, wondering where he was before she remembered and had to grieve all over again. Maybe she had Merle to thank for remembering he was gone. Or the three piles of belongings he'd left that night.

She had yet to move them, but she would. The clothes she'd use. Maggie was practical. She and Glenn hadn't been too different in size, she'd use his clothes. His weapons she'd pass on. The other stuff though, she knew she had to sort through it. There wasn't much. Had never been if she was being honest.

Once Glenn had lost his baseball cap, he'd lost his need for belongings. He carried what was useful for the most part. It was only once they'd defeated the governor that he'd started collecting personal things again. Taking a deep breath, Maggie stood, stretched and dressed. She put some toothpaste on a brush, cleaned her teeth, swallowed, rinsed and swallowed again. She couldn't be bothered going all the way to the bathroom to clean her teeth of a morning.

A bit of water on the toothbrush cleaned it too and she put it back on the shelf. She looked at, but didn't move Glenn's toothbrush or comb. They were small things, things she could afford to keep. Grabbing her laundry basket, she takes up Glenn's clothes and moves out the door. She takes them with her to breakfast and then moves on down to the laundry where she washes and hangs them to dry.

"You giving them away?" Beth asked her quietly as she came to wash beside Maggie.

"Nope, I'll wear them myself, they're not too much larger."

Beth nods. "I agree, I'll help you take up the pants." She says simply. They leave their baskets there and head back outside. Maggie looks at the roster. She's on fence duty today. With Merle. With a grimace, she heads over and grabs up a pitchfork. Jogging to catch up to where Merle had already started, she began to shove and thrust with him.

It was monotonous work. They're silent, not conversing. And Merle's usual taunts to the zombies are absent today. When they've finished all who were along the fence, they move to the jeep still in silence. Maggie drives and Merle drags them onto to the back. When they've piled them up, they take them to the pit to burn them.

Standing there together, Maggie finally speaks. "Sorry Merle." She didn't know what had come over her to kiss him like that. She knew she loved Glenn, would always love Glenn, but something in his face had drawn her in.

"'S okay Princess." He answered her. "I get it, I'm the total opposite of him. Ain't gonna remind you of him in any way. Kinda' normal I expect. And if it was a few years ago I'd a fucked you and been on my way before you'd stopped comin'." He huffed, as if ashamed of that comment. "But times are different now." He finished with.

"Not times." Maggie looked up at him, shading her eyes with her hand so she can see his harsh, unforgiving face. "Just you." She watched him jerk. "And that ain't a bad thing." She touched his arm and moved back to the jeep.

##########

They all develop a routine. It takes a while, stops and starts. But a routine nonetheless. Even Merle and Michonne. Michonne watches Merle interact with people. He was gathering friends. Slowly but surely, he was gathering them. And she knew he didn't even realise it. Few people who weren't his friends probably did.

Feeling the warm spring day on her face, she decides to do something they rarely do. Take time for each other. Heading to the kitchen, she gather's some food, packs it and then taking her own weapons along with Merle's she wanders outside to him.

"Hey, let's head out for a bit. I've got some provisions." She looks at him and raises an eyebrow.

"Sure." He answers amiably and follows her out of the smaller entrance, grinning at someone and laughing a little. They walk for a while until Michonne comes across the clearing she'd found some time ago. She spreads out the blanket and sits down. Merle stares at her dumfounded.

"A picnic?" He asks, sounding shocked.

It makes Michonne laugh. "Why not?" She questions him as she sets out the little food she'd brought along. "It's mainly the company. Feel like I haven't seen you for ages." It's true, even though they sleep beside each other every night, she feels like she hasn't seen Merle in a long time.

He sits, crosses his legs and slides his huge hand up her thigh. "I've missed you too." He wasn't one to admit stuff like that, her man. But she was glad he had, she realised she needed it. Nowhere near as often as she imagined most women did, but still. Sometimes was nice.

They eat companionably and in silence. When they've finished, Michonne pushes Merle back on the blanket and straddles him, making him raise an eyebrow in question. "What, so I may have had an ulterior motive. You going to say no?" She questions him mockingly as she undulates over his cock, feeling it rise, hot and thick inside his pants.

"Nope, not me. My mama didn't raise no fool." He goes so far as to put his arms behind his head. Then his face tilts and that eyebrow rises again in question this time. An arrogant statement of _'well? Aren't you going to get on with it?'_ making Michonne's arousal go from a slow simmer to a raging inferno of lust as she leaned down and kissed him.

As a couple, they were kind of a misnomer. Most people when they dared to hint a question about their sex life assumed it was rough and violent. That couldn't be further from the truth. It had been a slow awkward beginning, touches, and hesitant kisses. Strokes that led to arousal and then orgasms. Sex, intercourse when they'd finally got there had been tender and affectionate.

It had shocked her that Merle Dixon had it in him. She'd gone looking for a quick, hard, bruising fuck and he'd told her in no uncertain terms if she wanted that to hit up Rick. She knew his reputation and she wasn't having any of it. Michonne went along with no herd unless it suited her purposes. And Rick didn't, despite their blossoming friendship. Besides, back then she still hadn't truly forgiven him for thinking about sacrificing her to the governor.

Now though, Michonne wanted to take Merle apart. Make him writhe and moan and let himself go. Let himself be taken. Pulling back, she rested her palms on his forearms where they were still behind his head. "Keep them there, don't move them until I say so, got that?" She asked him huskily.

"Hmm." His answer rumbles in his chest, making Michonne's nipples harden from where she's lying on Merle. He was like a big cat, all warm and purring almost from her attention. She knew that of all the women he'd fucked, none of them had shown him real attention besides a blow job.

"I ever tell you how much I like these?" She questioned as she pulled back and sat up, her fingers unbuttoning Merle's shirt and stroking over his pale pink nipples teasingly. "I love how sensitive they are, how you can almost come from my playing with them." She speaks in a low, intimate voice barely above a whisper. But Merle hears her, his ice blue eyes gazing up at her as she sees arousal bleed into them.

"I mean, if I… flick them, just like so," He arches and rumbles at her again, this time in approval, "They just get harder, like little tiny rocks almost, so hard. And when I… bite them, they get even harder." She demonstrates by leaning down, letting her dreads stroke over Merle's bared chest, through his grey chest hair and over his nipples before she opens her mouth over one and flicks the other with her fingers.

Focusing her attention on them, Michonne teases him mercilessly, her mouth working them, one after another, tongue flicking them, teeth nipping at them, fingers rubbing her spit into his skin. Not pulling back until Merle's rumbles are a constant noise, vibrating against her own nipples as he breathes harshly now.

"Naked." His rumble this time is a word.

"Okay." She agrees and stands to strip down economically. They both pause and listen but hear nothing remotely dangerous.

Then she straddles Merle again, this time her back to him as she opens his trousers and pulls out his thick erection. "Oh, nice. You've made a little drink for me." She grins at his slightly disgruntled rumbling this time as she leans down and licks him clean. Merle is so aroused his cock is already fully extended from his foreskin.

"You can touch me now." Michonne murmurs as she opens her mouth and takes him inside. It is her turn to moan when she feels Merle's large hand cup her backside and move her around so he can slide his tongue into her.

Michonne feels Merle's tongue slide over her sensitive flesh, she knew she was aroused, she could smell herself. She flinches a little at the cool metal of the prosthesis pushing into her flesh slightly, spreading her a little and then fingers slipping inside her.

Rough and callused, they still somehow glide over her inside walls like silk. She knows they're not, but with her arousal it feels like it. A tongue slurps obscenely over her clit and she jerks as it pushes under her hood and touches her directly.

A rumbling laugh answers her jerk and Michonne curses Merle making him laugh wetly against her skin. He presses a biting kiss to her inner thigh and she jerks again. But two can play that game. Michonne stops sucking on Merle's cock, when she pulls off, she sees his skin, wet and glistening with her saliva.

Keeping a hand moving steadily on it, she moves lower, sucking on his balls, opening her mouth and drawing them in to roll around, one at a time and then pulling them out of the way with her other hand too, that leaves Merle's perineum and lower exposed. With a smile of her own, Michonne licks and sucks at Merle there, letting herself wet him thoroughly.

Pushing up, she pushes Merle's pants down his thighs and over his knees and pulls his legs up so he can spread properly for her. Looking over her shoulder, she sees Merle looking back at her, his face shiny with her juices. The smile she gives him makes his eyebrow raise curiously this time. But Michonne doesn't answer, just turns back around and leans down further, her strong fingers digging into the back of Merle's thighs at the crease of his buttocks, pulling them apart further. Exposing his hole to her.

It was a deep pink colour, surrounded by sparse grey hair and as she watched, it winked at her. "Well, that's an invitation if I ever saw one." She said to herself as she leaned down. Pausing, she gathered spittle in her mouth and then spat, the globule landing perfectly on Merle's hole making him flinch.

And then, Michonne opens her mouth and slides her tongue over Merle's hole, around the puckered pink skin, smearing her saliva all over it.

"Fuckin' Jesus woman." Merle breathed into her own body as Michonne felt his cock jerk against her breasts where she'd pinned it, she could feel pre-come pooling as well making her shiver in anticipation.

Not answering, Michonne focused on Merle, his tangy, sweaty taste. How it was like all of his scents pooled here, she tasted all of him in the one place. Moving her arms forward, Michonne uses them to spread Merle's legs further and he obliges by pulling up his ankles, so his boots and trousers bunch there too.

Licking and sucking, Michonne rolls her tongue and begins to push on Merle's entrance, forcing her way inside slowly. She feels Merle's own fingers inside her, stroking her walls, massaging her g-spot and making her writhe in return. They were both close she realised,

Pulling back, Michonne let herself wallow for a few seconds as she fisted Merle's cock and stroked it now, she licked her lips and could still taste Merle on them, just like he'd taste her if he did the same. When she feels the prosthetic pushing on one of her rounded ass cheeks, she moves forward and turns around. Re-straddling Merle, she waits while he fists his cock himself to hold it steady and then sinks down on him.

Arching up and crossing his arms around her waist, Merle slides his left hand up and pushes on her skull, forcing Michonne's head down so they kiss sloppily. She grins when Merle inhales sharply as he realises he's tasting himself on her. "You're not going to pussy out on me now are you?" She asks him impishly as she pulls back.

"Nah." He answers as he licks a stripe up her neck, before moving back to her mouth and eating it so thoroughly, Michonne can't do anything but respond helplessly, moaning. He was like that, despite his unexpected tenderness, Merle was voracious.

Flooding on Merle's cock, Michonne rotates her hips, slowly clenching down and winds her own arms around Merle's broad shoulders. She clings to him as she allows herself to cling to no other. Never thought she'd ever cling to another person.

Feeling a wide, warm palm sliding up and down her back, Michonne feels the cool metal of Merle's prosthesis holding firm against her back as well, resting on the swell of her hips as he hugs her to him. Moaning a little, Michonne feels Merle's cock throb inside her, matching her heartbeat.

Leaning her forehead on Merle's neck, Michonne feels his pulse beating rapidly in his neck, he is as aroused as she is. "Mmm, you feel so good, like fuckin' warm honey." He muttered as he leaned into her neck now, lips questing over her skin, tongue laving her tendon's.

"I'm a bee?" Michonne wheezes around a breathless laugh. He could always do that to her, make her laugh in the midst of her arousal. Something else she'd bet no other woman had ever had the benefit of when they'd been with him.

"Oh yeah, a bee with the best, wettest, snuggest, fuckin' most beautiful, pink graspin' honey pot it's been my pleasure to flood." Merle's words were a growl now as Michonne continued to move her hips on his cock. Working them both off. "Fuck with your clit for me, let me see you work it good." Base words now. They only made her wetter.

Merle groaned and Michonne followed him, her right hand dropping down her body to her clit. Both of them drop their gazes to her fingers as they glide through her springy curls and pull her lips back so she is exposed to their gazes, pink as Merle had said and glistening damply. "Beautiful." Merle growled now.

Looking up, Michonne works her middle finger on her clit as her dark eyes catch Merle's glowing ones. She leans in as he does and they kiss slowly. Tongues winding into each other's mouths as Michonne feels herself tighten as she works her clit toward orgasm.

Moaning into Merle's mouth, he answers her as his left hand smacks sharply down on her ass, throwing her over the edge into a long spasming orgasm. "God!" She exclaimed as he slapped her again, her finger is a blur on her clit, her head falling back as she relies on Merle's strength to hold onto her so she can keep coming.

Feeling heat inside her, Michonne clenches down hard on Merle's cock making his hips jerk uncontrollably underneath her as he comes as well.

Winding herself down, Michonne lets go of herself and lifts her fingers, Merle sucks on them, his tongue slipping over them as he licks her essence off them, their eyes not blinking as they stare at each other.

Watching Michonne's eyes return to their normal colour, Merle feels himself soften and slip from her heated warmth. She pulls back a little and he helps her to stand. Not that he wouldn't like to keep her naked and on the blanket, but they'd been stupid enough fucking out in the open without thought as it was.

When she is dressed, Merle stands and puts his own clothes to rights. They pack up the blanket and water bottles having eaten all the food and slowly begin to make their way back.

"We should do that more often." Merle mentions casually as they walk side-by-side, shoulders bumping occasionally.

"We should, we don't make enough time for us I think. Most people don't probably." Michonne answered him. They're about halfway back when they stop, watching as a flock of birds lift suddenly into the air ahead of them.

Hearing the rasp of Michonne's katana as she un-sheaths it, Merle clicks his bayonet on his prosthesis into place at the same time as a zombie lurches around the bend ahead of them. His face is a rictus of feral animosity. Before either of them can do more than take a step toward him, he is followed by a dozen more, coming from the path and the woods either side.

"Fuck." Michonne swore as she rarely did, they turn to run but are suddenly stopped by more coming from the side of the path to their left.

"A fucking herd." Merle swore, low and vicious. "Let's get the high ground." He said as they abandoned the path for the woods. But it is useless. They're everywhere. How they'd managed to stay upwind of them when they'd been fucking Merle didn't know, but they weren't upwind of them now.

For what feels like hours, they evade, thrust and parry their way through the thinnest spots. But whenever they gain ground, they find themselves forced into another direction. They're getting further away from the compound, not closer. Not that they're trying to get there especially, neither want to have the herd against the fences they still don't trust.

Michonne stumbled and Merle sliced her arm as he reached for her with his right arm. "Shit!" He exclaimed now as he saw the blood well. "Gotta clean it."

"No time." Michonne responded as she dragged herself up, her katana sweeping around to behead a zombie reaching for them, arms outstretched. It falls like a tree when she severs its spinal cord.

It is the beginning of the end though. Merle feels himself turn feral with rage, something in him refuses to lay down and die and he sees the answering rage in Michonne.

It is too late.

Moments later, a child gets under both their guards.

They're rare, child zombies, whether because they have trouble keeping up, or because they don't attach themselves to herds or whether people end the children before they can turn. No one has been able to figure it out, but this one had died, turned and managed thus far to stay around.

Their decomposing fingers, skin shredding from them even as they grasp Michonne's waist are cold and clammy, despite the heat of the day. Their teeth when they sink into the lush curve of her body somehow feel as if they burn her when the flesh is torn from her, shirt and all.

The scream that bursts forth though, doesn't come from Michonne but Merle.

Adrenalin burst through Merle as he sees Michonne bitten. His bayonet pierces the young zombie's skull with ease and he kicks it away. He cannot help but notice there is a piece of flesh in its jaws as it flies backward, taking down two adult zombies in a parody of life-size ten-pin bowling.

Danger is still around them, but the child had cleared a path. Merle yanked on Michonne and took her with him.

And they began to run. No more fighting. They were on borrowed time. He knew there was nothing he could do and he cursed his impotence even as he dragged what would soon be a corpse behind him. He'd be fucked if he didn't get to at least say goodbye to her.

##########

Night has fallen by the time they clear the herd. Michonne is feverish, her skin shedding sweat as if her pores were raining. Merle finds his bearings and a track and sets off toward the compound as he keeps Michonne close.

##########

"I'm not going to make it." Her voice cracks even as she keeps up with him, one dogged step at a time.

"I know." Merle answers her.

"Alive I mean." She clarifies.

"I know."

##########

"Give the katana to Carl." She requests some time later as they continue on.

"Yeah." Merle wouldn't even contemplate giving it to anyone else. He knew it was what she would want.

##########

A vehicle looms ahead in the dark. An abandoned four-wheel drive on the side of the road. Merle flashes their torch briefly. Propping Michonne against the open back door, he reaches in and yanks out the contents littered on the floor without even looking.

Pushing her in, he moves around the vehicle. Winds up the driver's side window and shuts all the open doors. The keys are in the ignition, so he takes those and locks them inside after having put the back seats down so Michonne can lie flat.

Finally, Merle sits down, stretches out his legs and lets her rest her head on this thigh as she breathes harshly.

She was dying.

Each breath brought her closer to taking her last.

"Breathe with me now, slow it down, c'mon woman, slow it down, you don't gotta hurry to die." He murmurs to her as his hand strokes her dreads back from her face.

Her body is decaying already. He can smell it. Death is rank in the air, the fucking grim reaper is standing there, front and centre, waiting to loose his scythe on the one woman who was his match in life.

"Fuck." Merle said as he looked down into the bottomless depths of Michonne's darkening gaze.

It was the last word she heard with her heart still beating.


	13. Merle, Maggie & Michonne Pt3

_A/N - Final chapter of **Merle's Women**, thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favourited. Major character death contained within this chapter too._

* * *

Michonne's service was small. Merle had brought her back knowing Carl would need to see her in order to accept her death. They stood there as her body burned, she'd made her wishes clear before they'd even got together, said in no uncertain terms that if she died when he was around, she wanted to be burned.

He and Carl watched her wrapped corpse burn until there was nothing left but a dried, blackened husk. A husk that had once contained life, a heart, a body that made him sing, a mind that challenged him and made him think and realise he was more than he'd been raised to be.

It would be a disservice to wipe away his tears. Merle let them fall until there were none left. The kid standing tall and silent by his side, girly hair moving in the early evening breeze. "You take care of her katana, learn how to use it right, keep it sharp and by your side always. Never surrender it kid, you got that?" He asked, the salt trails on his face cracking as he speaks.

"Yeah." Carl says no more, turning and walking away, one steady stride at a time. The katana held in his hand, not yet strapped across his back as Michonne had usually had it. He wasn't yet comfortable enough to do that. They had only said goodbye to her today, Merle had gotten back around mid-morning.

Maggie watched and then stepped forward from where she'd been keeping an eye on them. It was her turn after all. She knew damn well Merle had watched out for her, made sure she didn't do anything stupid when she'd lost Glenn.

And so she stood there, silent and still as Merle continued to watch Michonne's corpse. Waiting with him.

Turning, Merle saw her and stopped. Maggie turned with him and they began the trek back inside. She had to hurry to keep up with his long strides. "You don't gotta' look out for me. I ain't gonna' off myself or shit." He said to her as they came to the entrance.

"I know." She says no more and peels off when they get inside to go back to her own room.

##########

And so more time passes, Merle marks it by the clothes others wear, he doesn't look outside the fences anymore. The heavier, reinforced fences. He'd gone batshit about a week after Michonne had passed when a corner of the wire fence had been breached.

A knockdown drag out fight with His Lordship Rick Grimes and Merle was in charge of reinforcing the fences. It was a job that had filled him, given him purpose, helped him sleep at night. But that job was done now. Giving his mind time to wander, and so with his brain less occupied, he begins to dream at night.

Tonight was such a night, though he had a couple of blankets on, he was naked on his bed and sweating in his dream.

##########

_Gleaming black limbs entwined with his own as they rolled over the bed, falling off the other side with laughter, his hands ghosting over her moist skin as he threw back his head and laughed at her disgruntled look as she landed on the bottom bruising her lush ass._

_"__There you are, thought I'd lost the two of you." Tousled oak brown hair appeared over the edge of the bed followed by emerald-green eyes laughing at them. _

_"__Get down here Princess." Merle huffed as he reached out his right hand and yanked firmly making Maggie slide across the bed and fall down on them both with an oomph sound. _

_"__Ow, I'm on the bottom you know." Michonne said as she drew in a sharp breath._

_"__Suck it up buttercup." Merle said as he leaned down and took her mouth in a bruising kiss, even as his hands kept pulling Maggie in. He felt her breath against his ear as she leaned down and he and Michonne turned to meet her. _

_It was messy and complicated, when the three of them kissed it always was. Like the three of them together outside the bedroom was messy and complicated. Somehow they made it work, with stops and starts and arguments and make-up sex in any and every combination of the three of them. They worked because _they worked.

_Feeling a hand slide up his flank and brush over his nipple, Merle purred and arched into the touch, with his eyes closed he wasn't sure who it was but it didn't matter. It was one of them and that was all that counted._

_Pulling back, he leaves them kissing as he kneels up and tugs on Maggie's thighs, getting her to move up and straddle Michonne in front of Merle as they continue to kiss. His big hands palm her ass and he spreads her as his mouth swoops down and bites one of her cheeks, nipping and licking an old, fading bite mark he or Michonne had put there a few days ago._

_He was putting money on Michonne leaving it, his Nubian Queen might be all stoic and shit outside their door but here, inside, she was needy, demanding and wanton and unsure enough that she felt the need to make sure he and Maggie always carried something from her under their clothes. Merle would be lying if he said he minded being marked by his Queen. Or his Princess for that matter. Though she was a little different._

_Nosing down the crack of Maggie's ass, he tapped her hole and watched it flex, "Not tonight buttercup." He whispered making them break away and laugh at him. Leaning back, Merle stood, wincing as a knee cracked, shit he was getting old. "Fuck each other for me, I'm in the mood to watch." He said as he pulled Maggie up and threw her casually on the bed. _

_Turning, he reached a hand for Michonne and she raised an eyebrow, daring him to throw her too. "Well darlin' you know I can't resist a dare." He said as his hands snaked out and he grabbed her even as he turned and tossed her. Maggie squealed and moved as Michonne landed on her and they both laughed as Merle held his sides and bust a gut laughing. _

_"__Amused at yourself aren't you?" Michonne turned and shook back her dreads as she looked at him consideringly. _

_"__I am my lovely Queen, I am." He said as he sat down in the chair beside the bed and took his cock in hand. Raising a brow he watched them both as they watched back. _

_Maggie huffed as she watched them, both way too competitive. She took competition out of the equation by leaning back and spreading her legs, hands sliding down her body to her pussy. Moaning, she touched herself, fingers of one hand circling lightly over her clit as the fingers of her other hand dipped inside her pussy, stroking her walls. _

_Turning quickly, Michonne's eyes widened and she pounced, knees landing between Maggie's spread legs, pushing them apart further by spreading her own. "You started without me?" She questioned dangerously. _

_"__Yeah, I did. You got a problem with that?" Maggie arched an eyebrow as she continued to pleasure herself. She knew Michonne and what pushed her buttons. _

_"__Maybe I do." Michonne answered on a growl as she leaned in and kissed Maggie's nipple, her tongue snaking out and flicking it making Maggie arch. "Maybe I don't." She said as she sat back and watched. Glancing over her shoulder, she watched Merle pleasuring himself as well. She couldn't decide who to go down on. _

_"__Come fuck her Redneck so I can go down on both of you." She decided after a moment. _

_Shaking his head, Merle jerked his chin. "Fuck her for a while first, I wanna watch." His words were drawled as he continued jerking his fat cock in long lazy strokes, the purple head of it appearing and disappearing in his hammer-like fist as he did so. Who the hell knew he was so damn sexy under his mean, lying skanky exterior? Michonne sure hadn't. She was glad to be wrong though._

_Turning, Michonne spread herself over Maggie even as Maggie's hands spread her lips open so Michonne could push herself down on her clit. "God, yeah." Maggie moaned, her sturdy thighs clasping Michonne around the waist as she ground up into Michonne's groin as she pushed down. "Love your hair, it's so rough." She said now making Michonne flush though she knew it wouldn't be seen. Still, she ducked her head in embarrassment. "Hey." A gentle hand tilted her chin back up. "We're different, it's what I like, I don't care that it's rough, it's a turn on. And Merle loves it too, so get over it." Maggie whispered to her gently as she stroked a finger down Michonne's cheek and across her full lips._

_Merle smiled as he watched his women together. They drew him in every time. Now they were moaning as they fucked each other's clits, sweating dripping from Michonne in their hot, muggy room to land on Maggie and then slide over her pale, untanned skin to soak into the bedding. He could watch them forever. _

_Getting up, he knelt on the bed and knee-walked to them, his hands reached forward and his finger slid into them, two into Michonne and two down into Maggie as well. He didn't more, merely left them something to work themselves off on as they continued to hump each other. It was a fucking sexy sight._

_Michonne leaned down and kissed Maggie who arched her neck up, responding wildly as her arms wound around Michonne's shoulders and scratched down her writhing back, cupping her ass and pulling it apart so Merle could see her hole winking at him. But, he wasn't fucking that tonight either. _

_What Michonne had said before though, that sounded like the go tonight. So, without fanfare, he pulled on her hips and before either of them could curse, he pushed her around so she was spread and dangling over Maggie and he took his cock in hand and pushed it into Maggie's warmth on a moan of pleasure. _

_It was returned twofold as Michonne moaned as she watched and Maggie moaned as she felt herself breached. That first thrust, whether it was slow or fast always shocked her because of Merle's girth. She felt stretched to bursting and knew from experience, she looked it too. _

_"__Beautiful." Michonne murmured as she watched Maggie get fucked by Merle. Kneeling up, she kissed Merle and twisted his nipples, making him twitch deep inside Maggie. Then she leaned down and kissed along Maggie's hipbone before sucking on the soft flesh beside her navel, tongue laving it as she brought up a bruising mark._

_"__Oh, now that's a pretty sight." Merle murmured as he watched them. _

_"__Enough watching tonight, move now Merle." Maggie said as she clenched down on his cock and began to rotate her hips. Michonne pulled her legs back, helping her widen herself for Merle, taken him deeper so he could hit her g-spot._

_Folding her forearms around Maggie's thighs, Michonne leaned down and kissed her clit, tongue snaking out to flick at it even as she spread her knees wider as she felt warm breath ghost over her pussy and even warmer fingers stroke inside her, sliding all over her wet, slippery skin. _

_A tongue began to lick her walls, flick against her clit as those fingers began to move inside her. Then there is warm weight over her back and larger fingers prod her back hole. "Fuck her there too, she likes both." Merle said to Maggie. An affirmative humming sound is all Michonne can manage. _

_Spit drops down on her hole and Michonne flexes it as smaller fingers slick themselves up and push inside her, two of them, scissoring her, spreading her in both places now. Making her writhe as she felt her nipples rasp over Maggie's sweat-slick skin. _

_Opening her eyes, Michonne watches Merle fuck Maggie, his thick cock sliding in and out of her pussy, wet with her juices. Moving further down, Michonne opens her mouth and sucks on them both, her tongue stroking Merle's cock as he withdraws. _

_Merle pulls out of Maggie for a few moments, pushing his cock forward for Michonne to swallow. He moaned as he felt her suck on him and lick Maggie's juices off him with a moan of her own, one that is answered by Maggie as she goes down on Michonne._

_"__Fuckin' beautiful." He mutters as he takes his cock in hand again and pushes back inside the haven that is Maggie. Michonne's tongue again begins to work them both over as they fuck. Merle strokes her dreads back from her face, holding them out of the way so he can watch Michonne kiss and suck at he and Maggie. He can tell by the fluttering of her ass cheeks that Maggie is bringing her close to orgasm. He's close himself. Maggie milking his cock with her pussy muscles, it was almost like he could feel each individual muscle as she did so._

_Feeling his balls draw up as Michonne cupped them, her middle finger pressing on his taint to give him an external massage in his magic spot, Merle hissed as he erupted inside Maggie, fucking into her hard and fast now as he emptied inside her never wanting to stop coming, or leave her body. _

_"__Shit." He muttered as he finally stilled. He watched as Michonne's hips fucked up and down on Maggie's fingers as she came herself and then he felt Maggie's pussy fluttering on his cock and knew she'd boiled over in orgasm herself. _

_They might not manage to come at the same time, but they always came. It was something they realised when they started hooking up. Orgasms for three people at the same time was a hard one to pull off. They managed it occasionally, but not often. _

_Pulling out eventually, Merle sat back and watched as Michonne's head moved down and she began to suck his come out of Maggie, he leaned down as well, pushing himself back on the bed and they both took turns as they cleaned her up. It didn't bother him to suck up his own come._

_Then they move back up Maggie's body and share a final three-way kiss before flopping down on the bed together. _

_"__Fuck, we rock together." Maggie said after a time as sweat cooled on their bodies, the smell of sex was heavy in the air despite the open window, high up on the wall where people and zombies couldn't see or get in._

_"__That we do Princess." Merle agreed drowsily as his mind drifted off to sleep._

##########

The shower pattered down over his wet hair, pushing the grey strands flat against his skull as he leaned in under it, letting the grime on his skin be washed away by the slow steam of water. Running water was something to be thankful for these days.

Sighing, Merle reached for the bottle of shampoo and squirted some out. Slapping it on his head, he massaged it through his curling strands and then rinsed it off, making sure the suds ran down his chest through his pubic hair, he rinsed that as well.

Soaping up next, he scrubbed himself down and once again rinsed off. Stepping out as he switched off the shower, he's brought up short by Maggie standing there, holding his towel. Well, Merle amended, she was dangling his towel by one index finger as her other hand rested on her cocked hip.

"Now that's an invitation if ever I saw one." He graveled at her as he swiped his towel and ran it over his dripping hair. Next he dried off his upper body and then his legs as he bent them to rest on a chair one at a time. Then his groin as she watched all the while.

"You man enough to take me up on it?" She challenged him this woman. Same as Michonne and yet so very different.

"Only if I wanted to." He said to her as he stepped into his underwear and then clean trousers before sitting down to put on his boots. Standing again, he slung the towel around his neck and picked up his prosthesis. Looking Maggie dead in the eye he spoke again. "And I don't."

Walking away, Merle didn't look back. He'd always been a good liar.

##########

Dreams haunt him, sweaty skin, come-soaked sheets, dark and light, light and dark. Both of them dog him in his dreams, one of them dogs him when he's awake.

Beth laughs at him one day in the heat of summer as Merle glances around the corner of a building, checking Maggie had finished her job for the day in the area he was looking to head to. "Ain't funny, wouldn't be funny if I were a fucking woman and she were a man." He snarled at her, startling her to silence.

He was right.

And that is how Merle comes upon Maggie and Beth fighting a few days later. People were betting on them as they struggled on the ground, they were a good match now. Beth was actually better, Merle realised absently as he watched them for a moment.

Finally though, realising that people weren't stopping them, he stepped in between them and yanked them apart roughly. He led them, still kicking and fighting, though they're directing their rage at him now, around the corner to the pig trough and pushed them toward it. Hard.

Stumbling over each other, they fall in, Maggie face first, Beth managing to roll and land shoulder first though Maggie soon dragged her face down into the slop as well. Shaking his head Merle stepped up.

"Fuckin' knock it off, stupid bitches. Whatever the fuck it is, it ain't worth it." He said as he grabbed up the water barrel and poured it over them in a long gushing stream.

"Fill that shit back up before you come back inside and don't fuckin' come back inside until you've figured out what the fuck ever you were fightin' about." Merle shakes his head and walks back inside.

He's lying in his room hours later, reading until the electricity is shut off for the night when there is a knock on what he uses for a door. "Yeah?" He questions.

Maggie pushes it open and steps inside. She looks at him and then sits on the stool, on top of his discarded clothes. Looking at him for a moment, she glances away and Merle is surprised to see her blush.

"I remember the first time I saw you." She said out of the blue. "You were a fuckin' bastard, to Glenn, to me." She stopped and leaned forward now, resting her elbows on her knees and clasping her hands as if praying. "I never thought that opinion would change, especially after Woodbury and that fucktard." Merle smiled. She was the only other person he knew who used the word fucktard.

"When you and Michonne hooked up after you got better… When you just kept me sane after Glenn… I like you Merle Dixon." Maggie finally finished a sentence and Merle just stared at her. "You make me think, like Glenn did." She finishes another sentence. "Guess I'm tryin' to say that when you're ready, if you're ever ready, I'd like to try maybe being with you." She finished this one after several stops and starts.

"Beth," She broke off, licking her lips. "Beth told me I should just be up front, stop harassing you. Made the point that if I were a guy and you were a woman it wouldn't be allowed." A blush covered her face here making Merle nearly goggle as he watched her in shock. "I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable and stuff. That's all." She stood and was gone quickly leaving Merle with his mouth gaping.

How the fuck was he supposed to sleep after that?

##########

They're on a hunting trip some time later, he and Daryl with Carl and Maggie. She was better now, didn't bother him none and Merle was grateful for it. Well, she didn't bother him during the day he thought. The two of them are settled in, waiting for Daryl and Carl to return with the buck they were tracking down after wounding it.

"I dream of you. You and Michonne." He gave in finally. His dreams were killing him. He was walking around with a fucking hard on most of the day, aching for something he could never have.

"Dream how?" Maggie asked him curiously as she sat down at a right angle to him so she could see him.

"Together, the three of us." She still looked puzzled so Merle huffed and elaborated. "Together, fucking, getting it on." He said bluntly. And he grinned as he watched that rare and lovely flush steal over Maggie's skin.

"Seriously?" She questioned after a while.

"Yep."

"Do we…get it on with each other?" She asked again after another while.

"Yep."

"And you? And you like, have both of us and we're together too?" She sounds incredulous and something else, something Merle can't quite put his finger on.

"Yep."

"It's good? Our sex I mean?" Maggie asked him now making him squint over at her.

"Yep."

"You ever gonna say anything other than yep again?" She asked him, sarcastically now.

"Yep." He grinned toothily at her.

Narrowing her eyes, Maggie frowned at him. "So what do I like, sexually speaking in your dreams then?" She asked.

"You like my cock, like how thick I am, how it stretches you when I fuck into you." Merle answers her as he feels his cock begin to get hard under his trousers. He shifts and Maggie's eyes drift down, watching him harden beneath his clothes. "Starin' is rude you know." Merle says softly as he reaches for Maggie.

She comes to him willingly, his mouth closes over hers and she parts her lips for his tongue to languidly move into her mouth and make itself at home. Pulling away after a bit, Merle watches her eyes flare as she looks back down to see him fully hard.

"What else to do I like? In your dreams?" Maggie asked now as she sat back again.

"You like Michonne's mouth on you, her hands in you, front and back. You like to go down on her when she goes down on you, you like to tease her. And both of you like to tease me. And you love my nipples." He said as he watched her breathing quicken. "Touch yourself for me Princess, make yourself come." Merle spoke in a broken whisper as Maggie leaned back on one hand, her other disappearing under her pants at his words.

He watched avidly as she spread her legs and groaned as she fingered herself. "Touch your clit for me Princess, I bet its so soft and pretty and pink and begging for it right now, touch it for me and then let me taste you."

Obeying again, Maggie pulled her hand out, wetness glistening on her fingers as she held them out to Merle. His tongue swiped over them, cleaning them of Maggie herself as he pushed his prosthetic against his cock. Pulling away, he jerked his chin and Maggie shoved her hand back down her pants again.

"Too young for me you know." Merle spoke casually as he watched her touch herself. "Ain't gonna stop me from fucking you every chance I get if you're serious about me." He continued on. "Fucking you every night when you come to me in my room, laying you out and eating you, fingering you, stroking those soft inner walls of yours, pushing your legs apart and making a nice meal out of you. Fucking your ass when I want, coming all over your tits, on your face, rubbing myself into your skin so you smell like me for days."

Grinning, Merle watched as Maggie boiled over in orgasm, a hard fast one, brought on by the thought of Merle doing exactly what he said he'd do to her.

And so they began. But the dreams don't stop.

##########

_"__Jesus, fuck yes." Merle murmured as he felt the tongues on his cock. They didn't do it often, but a joint blowjob was something he'd never turn down. They were magic together, both tongues on his cock, then one while another tongued his balls, his hole. _

_Spreading his legs wantonly, Merle let them have at him, their curvy asses were up by his arms and he moves his hands over them, stroking them, slapping them, making them twitch at him in invitation. Then he pushed his fingers inside them, fucking them together as their tongues fuck him. One of them rolling up to stab into his slit as the other pushed slowly into his ass. _

_Fuck but he loved his ass being played with and these two excelled at it. They took him apart piece by piece and put him back together, made him stronger, better. Arching his back, Merle pushed his hips up into the mouth wrapping around him now. He frowned as he felt a tug on his arm, what the fuck?_

_He roared as his right hand disappeared suddenly. Then he screamed as he felt a wrenching in his thigh and blood suddenly blossomed there as flesh disappeared._

_And then his left hand was yanked and more pain struck him. On the back of the neck this time. And Maggie, she disappeared beside him only to reappear, _dressed andscreaming like banshee as she shoved a shiv into the zombie clinging to Merle's back as he pushed the one on his thigh off with a pained grunt.

"Merle! Come on, hold on to me now, I've got you." Merle felt liquid drip down on his face as he was moved suddenly. It made him groan.

"Fuck." He said as he felt his whole body seize.

He smelled death in the air. He was smelling himself.

"No, no, not again. No, no." He looked over at Maggie, she was the source of the liquid. Her tears.

"Gotta let me go Princess. Gonna be with my Nubian Queen. You'll see us one day again." He said softly as he felt his insides begin to liquefy.

"I'll see you one day Merle, and we'll act out your dreams." Maggie suddenly dashed away her tears as she leaned over and took Merle's mouth in a bruising kiss.

"Fuck yes." Merle answered her.

They were the last words he spoke.

##########

They watched from the woods as Maggie and Daryl laid Merle to rest. They set the fire and stood and watched it burn with Beth, Patrick, Carl and Herschel. Judith ran up some time later and Carl hoisted her onto his hip and held her, silently rocking her has her head rested on his shoulder, arms wound around her brother's neck.

"Guess you won her heart too Redneck." Michonne said as she leaned into Merle.

"Well, it's what we Dixon's do." He brushed his fingernails over his chest, buffing them as he grinned lasciviously at her.

"Guess so." She answered as they turned and watched silently.

When the fire has died down and Merle's body is nothing but blackened ash, the living drift away, never once glancing toward the shadows watching in the woods.

"Did I win yours then?" Merle asked Michonne curiously. They'd never spoken of love.

"Yes." Her word is a simple answer, but worlds are said in it.

Tugging on her dreads, Merle tilts her head up. "Glad you waited for me." He whispered as he kissed her softly.

Their forms fade away as they merge with each other as they never could in life.

This next journey will be taken together.

Merle's last words drift on the evening air. "Thank you for the dreams too."

A soft laugh answers him.

* * *

_A/N - Yes in the dream sequences Merle had both hands, that was deliberate on my part._


End file.
